#this is actually so nice and soft of them if u think about it

[htsdfferent]

Birthday starter for Sam from Zelda!

❛ Happy birthday, Stanford. ❜ Zelda hands him a tiny box, the contents of which are a gag gift and an actual gift. The first: a Columbia Law School keychain – and the second: an iron dagger encased in a leather sheath. ❛ Something about it just screamed 'Sam' to me. ❜

@decimatlas !

his brows lift slightly, as the box it pushed into his hands. “this is a surprise.” sam glances up to zelda, a lopsided smile pulling against his lips. “you didn’t have to get me anything, really.” his eyes glance back towards the box, as his hand pulls the top off. his eyes find the keychain first, resting atop paper tissue. his eyes roll as he pulls it out of the box, holding it up for her to see. “you’re ridiculous.” he shakes his head, sitting the keychain next to his box. ( he’ll argue with himself about putting it on his keyring when he’s alone. )

he pushes the tissue paper to the side. his brow raise in surprise, as he pulls the dagger from the box. he pushes the box to the side. he leans forward on his elbows, his eyes inspecting the leather sheath. ( he’s not sure if he’s ever been given something this nice. ) he pulls the sheath off, his eyes glancing over the shinning blade. his smile returns to his lips, his eyes glancing towards zelda. “this is really great. thank you.”

[seaquestions]

blake lets him keep it. this is a dire lapse in judgement on his part but they're just gonna have to live with it. (ids in alts)

[angelsheartts]

୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.

#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.

#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.

⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .

i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.

being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.

"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.

⋆.ೃ- ADAM .

his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.

even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.

sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.

⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .

alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?

actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.

that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.

⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .

for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.

angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.

"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.

as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.

⋆.ೃ- HUSK .

husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.

you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.

after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.

⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .

he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.

the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.

today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.

"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.

⋆.ೃ- VOX .

this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.

actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.

today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.

"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.

[eiightysixbaby]

hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!

(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)

thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn

thanks! 💞

hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵

18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv

The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.

It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.

You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.

But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.

The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.

The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.

It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?

Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.

“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.

You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.

“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.

He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.

“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”

You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.

He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.

You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.

You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.

“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.

You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.

He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.

“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”

He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.

Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.

Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.

“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.

He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.

Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.

“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.

You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”

He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”

[radioscribbles]

Alastor x Reader - Chest Fluff

Details: Established relationship, honeymoon phase, light teasing. You discover Alastor's chest fluff! Warnings: None, this is pure fluff - literally. No pronouns used. No use of Y/N. Not beta read as usual. Author's note: I’m fully convinced Alastor has chest fluff. I don’t have any proof except I think it’s CUTE. Word Count: 992

You’ve always loved cuddling Alastor. It’s the closest form of intimacy you had gotten so far in your budding relationship. And he was so, so comfortable.

Looking at him, you’d think he was all sharp edges and pointy teeth, but lying on his chest, as you were right now, you could swear this man was secretly a pillow.

Both of you were lying on a chaise longue in his room, soft jazz playing in the background. While he was busy reading over some papers, he’d allowed you to indulge in some cuddles, so long as you didn’t disturb him.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, his overcoat discarded on an armchair, and sighed.

“You’re so soft, Al.”

He peeked at you from behind his papers, a lazy grin on his face, and raised a brow at you in question.

“I’m serious, it’s like you’re a plushie. Or maybe you’re actually an alpaca demon instead of a deer. It’s as if you’re all fluffy or something.”

Alastor let out an amused laugh.

“Ha! Maybe it’s because I am.”

You raised your head to look at him. Now it’s your turn to cock an eyebrow at him.

“What? An alpaca demon?” Another laugh escaped him.

“Goodness, no! That’s a stupid notion, my dear.” He let his papers fall to the floor and gave you an amused smirk.

“It’s winter, darling. Not only do I have to deal with shedding my antlers, I also happen to grow a bit of a thicker coat of fur.”

His brows furrowed a bit in annoyance as he told you of his situation. He was obviously displeased by it, but by god, if you weren’t intrigued. You made a mental note to squeal about how openly he talked about it with you later. But for now, you needed answers.

Your gaze shifted down to his chest, now noticing that it did seem a bit fuller than it used to.

“Can I see it?” - “I beg your pardon?”

Your eyes widened at your impulsive request, as did his. Only now did you realize that that would include him dropping a layer. You’ve never seen one another in a state of undress, except perhaps in your night clothes. And even then you had both always been fully dressed.

But you made your bed, now you had to lie in it.

“U-uhm, I mean…I kinda…wanna see it..?” You stammered. You could feel your face heating up under his gaze, while his grin only grew wider. You were sure he was enjoying how flustered you were getting.

“Well, since you asked so nicely! Only because it’s you.” A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he said it. He then nodded to his shirt, challenging you to undo the buttons. “Go on, darling. Don’t be shy now.”

You sat up in his lap, head reeling and ears buzzing as if all your blood had risen to your face. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Your shaking fingers undid his bowtie first, neatly folding it and placing it on the back of the chaise. Then you reached for the first set up buttons, so close to his neck. You could swear you heard a soft chuckle as you undid them.

Your eyes flit up at him for a second, before quickly snapping back down as you caught him watching you intensely with narrowed eyes and his wicked grin.

“Stop looking at me while I do this…” 

“No~.” Alastor teased.

If you could bush any further, you would.

You decided it was enough after three more sets of buttons. Now no longer focused on the task at hand, you spotted what looked like fur peeking from the gap in the shirt.

Without thinking, you spread his shirt open, even startling Alastor with your bold move. Eyes wide, you gazed at what you could only describe as soft looking brown fluff right in the middle of his chest.

If you had looked up, you’d see Alastor’s smile twitching. Now he was the one being stared at so thoroughly, and it unnerved him. He suddenly felt…exposed? Insecure, maybe? No, not him, never!

He stiffened up as he felt your fingers slowly moving through the tufts of fur, essentially stroking his bare chest.

The fur was dense and soft. Certainly made to keep him warm during the cold seasons - and possibly to serve as a pillow for yourself.

You thought it was so cute. It didn’t go at all with his reputation as the big bad Radio Demon, so it’s no wonder he keeps it a secret. A secret only you knew now.

“Wow, it’s really soft, Al! No wonder you’re so comfy all the time.” When you looked back up at him, you could see the faintest of blushes along his cheeks. You were sure your own blush was still there as well, but you felt reassured knowing that he was also affected by your intimate position.

You batted your eyelashes at him in an attempt to butter him up some more. He probably knew what you wanted to do next anyway.

“Can I..?”

He let out a theatrical sigh, but opened his arms to welcome you in.

“Fine. Since you’re being oh so sweet, my dear.”

You hummed in satisfaction and slowly laid your head down into his chest fluff. It smelled so much like him. You could hear his heart beating much faster than it had before and you grinned to yourself.

You let out another hum as you felt his arms come to rest on your back, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

“I hope you understand that this is to stay between us, darling?”

“Mhm~.” You agreed as you closed your eyes. There’s no way you would ever share this knowledge with anybody. This was just one of the many little secrets Alastor carried with himself. And this one was only for you to know.

[luveline]

hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey

ty (ily)!! fem!reader

Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read. 

“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together. 

“I’m not.” 

You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs. 

“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you. 

“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.” 

“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.

“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.” 

“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.

“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable. 

“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks. 

“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.” 

“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.” 

“What? Why would you pay for it?” 

“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?” 

Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.” 

You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.” 

He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.” 

“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.” 

His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability. 

“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft. 

Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat. 

“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?” 

Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.” 

“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?” 

He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks. 

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.3

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, weed, tattoo artist ellie, smut, reader is not a total pillow princess, swearing, ellie flicking joint scene but different

a/n - sorry for the late upload, I tried finishing this yesterday but it just wasn't flowing very well. not my best work in terms of sentence flow etc. and it was actually my first time writing smut like this which was uhh a funny experience but yeah I hope u like it ;)

The next week after the night at the club had gone by in a frenzy. Dina and Jesse had both followed you on instagram and shown up for their drinks on the house as early as Monday. It made you happy because you felt they genuinely liked and wanted to spend time with you, especially Dina, who loved to chat and who also listened when you talked. She’d asked you to stop by her workplace too, which you did on Wednesday and were met with excited talking and lots of book recommendations. You two were becoming quick friends.

As for Ellie, you didn’t see her again after that Friday night, which made you increasingly less hopeful of anything happening between the two of you. Had her staring at you on the dance floor meant anything at all? Was it just her being pissed at you? If it was, hadn’t it been a strange moment for her to choose to express it?

You didn’t dare ask Dina. She had most likely caught on to you and you did not want to stoke the flames. Yes, she was nice, but she knew Ellie longer and as such was more loyal to her. You didn’t want to risk her mentioning your questions.

It was hard keeping it all in, especially because your mind couldn’t help wondering to your neighbor every so often. Her freckles, her tattoos, how her hair looked with the top half tied back. The way she had gazed at you that night.

You were almost at end of your Friday shift and anxious to go home when Dina walked in beaming. She came up to the cash register and leaned her hands on the counter, looking from the register to you.

“Hey there.”

“Hi.” You grinned. “What are you so exited about?”

“Well, me, Jesse and Ellie were thinking we wanted to do something today, but we were all too spent to go out. So Ellie suggested we have a smoke sesh at hers. I remember you told me that your shift ends at six today, so I’ve come to get you. What do you think?”

You bit your lip. You’d told Dina about you missing weed. Of course you wanted to go. You had been itching this whole time to get high, and you really were curious about what it would be like to get high with Ellie. But it didn’t seem at all like she’d want you there. “Did you ask her if it was okay for me to come?”

“She knows we’re friends now.” Dina gestured with her hands. “Imagine if I came to her place to smoke, which is right next door to yours, and didn’t invite you?”

“Dina.”

“Okay, okay! I know you two have a lot of tension.” Your heart fluttered at the way she said tension. Like that word contained so many things, and not all of them just some version of animosity. “But like I said, she’ll warm up to you. She’s got no choice now.”

“Did you ask her if I could come?”

“I told her through text, actually. And she didn’t say anything, which is as good as a ‘that’s fine.’”

You sighed. “You’re sure it won’t be weird?”

“Oh, it will be at first. But then we’ll get high, and everything will be great. Her weed’s amazing.”

You crossed your arms, then unfurrowed your brows. “Okay,” you said. “My shift ends in fifteen minutes.”

“Yay!” Dina pressed her palms together. “I’ll have an iced tea, then.”

-

Dina knocked on Ellie’s door after you had left your things at your place and changed into fresher clothes. You wore simple jeans and a tight fitted top this time. Jesse was the one to answer, soft music streaming out around him as he opened the door. As soon as he saw you were next to Dina his mouth opened up into a smile.“Y/n! Nice to see you. Come in.”

You stepped inside, feeling as if your stomach was folding unto itself. You took in your surroundings. The apartment was well kept but obviously lived in, with pieces of memorabilia and hints to Ellie’s personality scattered all over, including an acoustic guitar sat on a stand by the window.

Your stomach only squeezed in tighter when your gaze landed on Ellie laid back in the living room couch, wearing a loose t-shirt and baggy jeans. On the coffee table next to her lay a mason jar with more weed than you’d ever seen at once, as well as rolling papers, a lighter, and a grinder with a planet print on it.

“Ooh, nice,” Dina said, already getting close to peer at the spread on the table. You followed her lead and she took your hand and sat you down on the other edge of the couch. You waited for her to sit in between you and Ellie, but she didn’t, instead plopping herself down on the carpet. Jesse sat on the carpet too, criss-crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on the coffee table.

Ellie’s stare fixed on you then dropped away. As you, Dina, and Jesse chatted she got to work on rolling a joint. You couldn’t help but stare when her tongue slid against the paper and her deft fingers pushed it down She took the lighter from the table and lit the joint, taking two hits before passing it to you. It went around without much talking, but on Jesse’s second turn he glanced at you, then at Ellie, then at Dina.

“So,” Jesse started. “Ellie was telling me about this client who came in and got a big moth tattoo, but started absolutely sobbing after it was done, demanding a refund.”

Ellie’s mouth broke into a grin. “Dude, you’re making it seem like I’m bad at my job.”

“What? Of course not! Everyone knows you’re fucking great. She obviously just hadn’t thought it through. It was funny.”

Dina laughed. “You guys are horrible! The poor girl’s going to be stuck with that for life.”

“Could be a worse situation,” You said. “Ellie’s tattoos are pretty good.” It was at that moment when you complimented her that you realized you were already beginning to feel high. Jesus, it really was good weed. And like any good weed, it was lowering your inhibitions, making you less afraid to talk.

For a second, it was quiet. Then she spoke. “Thanks.”

Dina subtly threw a grin your way. “So, did you get her a refund?”

“Hell no. I spent six hours on it.”

“Damn Ellie, that’s cold,” Jesse teased.

Ellie just took the joint and smoked.

The night went on with the four of you in conversation. Ellie was still much quieter than you imagined she normally was, but at least she wasn’t being actively hostile towards you. She would say things to you sometimes, and you would say things back, and the higher you got the easier it was.

Eventually your high began to fade, and everyone else agreed that it was going away for them too. Ellie rolled another joint and flicked on the lighter, dragging the smoke in in order to light the end properly. As soon as she raised her hand at Dina to pass it to her, Dina stood up and declared she was tired and needed to go home.

You looked around, unsure of what to do now. Dina saw you begin to adjust yourself to stand up and quickly pushed you down. “Don’t worry, y/n. You can stay. You told me you’d been craving weed, right? Ellie’s already lit the thing. Enjoy it. She’s got a shit ton more.”

You looked at Ellie, who had withdrawn her hand, leaned back and brought the joint once again to her lips.

“Well, I’m staying here,” Jesse took the joint from Ellie. “It’s still early.”

“No you’re not.” Dina walked around the coffee table and started to pull him off the floor. “I need you to ride the subway with me so you can walk me home. It’s not safe for me at this hour.”

“What—“ but before he could get in more words of protest, Dina was already saying goodbye and dragging him away. Between you still being slightly buzzed and it all happening so fast, you could barely think of what to do besides watch them walk out.

You turned back to Ellie, who was grabbing the joint from where Jesse had left it on the table. To your surprise, she offered it to you. You accepted it. Why not, right?

“So,” you said, trying to make conversation. “You play guitar?”

“Yeah.” She watched as you took a drag. “Do you play anything?”

You looked at the guitar. It really was a beautiful instrument, clearly well made. “Unfortunately not. I wish I had something like that to impress girls with,” you joked, passing Ellie the joint.

She frowned as she took it. You were keenly aware of every move she made, every ripple in the taut muscles of her arms. “You think that’s why I learned to play guitar?”

You crossed your legs. “No, no. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re not sorry. But it’s fine.” She scoffed. “And you don’t need a guitar to impress girls.”

Your heart fluttered. “What do you mean?”

Ellie stayed quiet. When you wouldn’t stop staring at her with an expectant look on your face, she shrugged. “It’s… it’s nothing. Just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” You pulled in closer, uncrossing your legs. If she wasn’t going to tell you, then fine. “Maybe I do, actually. That girl at the club seemed pretty into me. Maybe I just have to dress like that more often.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And to let girls play with your ass in public?”

You opened your mouth, stammered, then shut it. You were not expecting a response like that. After the initial shock, it made you angry. “What’s it to you?”

She just stared. You could feel her gaze burning into you. The whole living room, with its low yellow lighting and quiet surroundings seemed warm with it.

“You really piss me off sometimes, you know that?” She said.

You took the joint from between her hands and took a drag, not letting go of eye contact one bit as you breathed out and the milky smoke rose around you. “Yeah. I know.”

“Fuck you,” she said breathlessly.

You got in closer to her. You were burning now, too. “Fuck you too.”

You moved your hand to take another hit, but Ellie snatched it out of your fingers and flicked it on the floor. You only had time to make a ‘what the hell?’ face at her for a split second before she had her hands on your face, pulling you into a kiss.

The instant you felt her warm lips on you, you gave in. You kissed her back, not caring that she could feel your desperation because you wanted her to feel it, you wanted her to know what she did to you. What she’d been doing to you, all this time. And you could feel hers too.

You placed a hand on her jaw and soon she pulled away, hands still on your face. You frowned. She just took it and brought it in close again, but not enough for your lips to touch fully. Just enough for them to ever so slowly slide against each other. You tried to kiss her properly again, but she stopped you, adamant on letting you only have that much.

“That’s how you made me feel,” She said softly.

Oh, really? You thought. Two can play at this game.

You pulled away fully, taking her hands in yours and pulling them down. She frowned. Then you came back in, only not to kiss her. You brought your face to the level of her neck and left your mouth open as you slid your lips over the soft skin, painstakingly slow. Her breathing got heavier.

Then you rolled your leg over her, getting on top of her lap. With one hand on the neckline of her shirt and the other on her jaw, tracing the line of her bottom lip with your thumb, you smiled softly. “What did I make you feel, Ellie? Did I make you feel desperate?” You lowered your face, your cheek just brushing against hers, mouth right next to her ear. “When I danced with that girl at the club, did I make you jealous?”

“Fuck you,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” you said. “Fuck me.”

She threw your back onto the sofa and kissed you hard. It was fast and rough, rougher than you were used to, but she was so good at it and you were both so feverish that the harshness felt good. She was warm, so warm. With her body against you and your mind high you felt as if you were melting into her. It was intoxicating, she was intoxicating. You’d kissed girls before and it had felt nice and sometimes it had even felt pretty good, but not like this. Never like this. Like pure, poisonous nectar was dripping through your bloodstream.

You ran your hands over her back, digging your fingers in, and let out the smallest moan in her mouth. You felt her back rise and stand there for a moment before falling. Then she lodged her thigh in between your legs. Right on that spot that had been aching like hell.

You kissed her harder, and she pressed her leg in a little harder. You grabbed at her hair, running your hands through it. She pulled her leg back slightly and pressed harder.

Then she drew back. “Do I have to fucking beg to hear you?”

You looked at her eyes. Green, with the tiniest bits of brown running through them. There were slivers of yellow light reflecting off of them, and in your high state it was as if there was liquid gold running over her irises. No, she didn’t have to beg.

You kissed her again, gently this time, and ground yourself on her thigh. You whimpered into her lips. Then when she grabbed onto your hips and started guiding them, you parted from the kiss and moaned. It was like she couldn’t get enough, every noise from you made her move faster, more restlessly, until you put your hand on her stomach and when you couldn’t find skin, lowered it so you could push her shirt up and touch her abs.

Once you did that, she started pulling it up. Your hands immediately rose to help her, and when the shirt was fully off, you gazed at her body. She was wearing a similar sports bra to the one you saw before, and underneath it, inked over her skin was the rib tattoo, a snake coiling over a bird. Along with it were others, over her hips and her stomach, crawling down her hips to her pelvis, where it disappeared under her jeans. You traced that one with your pointer.

She drew back her thigh and touched your own stomach, toying with the hem of your jeans as if asking a question. You used your other hand to guide her in, just enough so she could feel the lacy top part of your underwear. She slid her hand down onto your cunt. You could feel her smile against your cheek when she noticed how wet you were.

A whimper left your lips as she started to move her fingers. God, you didn’t know that could feel so good. Nobody had ever done it that well on you, not even yourself. As she sped up, strained moans spilled out of you. Your body wanted you to be louder, but you were scared someone would hear.

Ellie’s cheek dragged against yours. “Why the hell are you holding back?”

“I… don’t want the neighbors to…”

She lessened her pace, leaving you desperate. “Fuck that,” she said.

She withdrew her hand. Once you were desperate for more, but now you were full on throbbing. She started to move back on the couch, and you furrowed your brows in protest until she fully unzipped your jeans and pulled them down. Not satisfied, she tugged at your shirt so you would sit up and take it off. Then she slowly pushed you down, her hand on your bare rib making your skin feel electric.

She studied your body, breathing hard. “Jesus Christ,” she said, before putting her hands all over you, sliding them up and down. Massaging your breast, she licked the soft part of your belly just over your panties. Even though she wasn’t touching your cunt, you couldn’t help but make soft noises. Then she moved her tongue up, around your belly button, to your sternum, where she stopped.

“Don’t keep quiet this time.”

She pulled off your panties and spread your legs, planting her tongue on you.

“Shit,” you breathed.

She sped up and slowed down at just the right moments, using just the right pressure, as if she already knew your body better than you. All the while the feeling of it, the wetness of her tongue sliding over your folds made you delirious with pleasure. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The more you moaned the better it felt, the closer you got until you were gripping her hair and shifting your hips back and forward.

“El, fuck,” you moaned as you came, instinctively using the nickname. She guided you through the orgasm, lapping her tongue slowly.

You let go of her hair and she brought her face up, then began to fidget with your bra, pushing her hands to your back so she could find the clasp as she licked the parts of your boobs which were bare.

“No, wait,” You said, still a little breathless. Ellie stilled, looking at you. You gently pushed her back, and she let you, until you were back on top of her lap and she was staring up at you. Your hands led hers to the back of your bra where the clasp was so she could take it off. She brushed her thumbs over your nipples, causing them to harden. A pleasurable electric sensation shot up between your legs, but you only let out a few whimpers before stopping yourself from becoming too distracted.

You touched your face to her neck, sliding your mouth once again over it. You started to grind yourself on her while making lewd noises right next to her ear. Her hands went over your hips and guided them back and forth, urging you to thrust harder. One of your hands traveled to the button of her jeans. You fidgeted with it but held it there. Biting at her neck, you moved your hips ever so slightly in time to the sliding of your fingers on her stomach.“Do you want it?” you asked.

“Yes—fuck, I want it,” she replied.

You undid the button and zipper of her jeans then dug your hand underneath her underwear, smiling at the feeling of her bush and her wet folds. You were worried you perhaps weren’t going to be as good as she’d been, but your worries faded as she whimpered, gripping your hips hard. The noises became quieter when she began to suck your breasts, to your delight still making muffled grunts and whines against them.

As you sped up she became more frenzied until she took your face in her hand and kissed you, tongue against tongue. You realized she was coming when she couldn’t kiss you properly anymore and buried her face in your neck and cursed, her body tensing until it began to twitch. You both caught your breath, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. Then she laid you back down on the couch and kissed you softly as your legs wrapped around her. The two of you made out until you were too sleepy, at which point your arms and limbs intertwined as you drifted off to sleep.

pt.4

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a/n - depending on wether or not ppl seem interested I will be continuing this series, which I will prob finish in one or two parts. if you really want me to continue feel free to comment or dm!!

[moonstruckme]

hello mae baby please may you write a fic with anyone u like with a reader who is really drunk and the other person is taking care of her and she thinks she is annoying and they ar like why would u think that i love looking after u and some tenderness maybe with mauruaders but actually with whoever you’d like mae u are so nice and lovely and kind bye bye’!!!!

Hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You know Remus is reading when you get home, because he doesn’t call for you and you are not quiet as you come inside. You drop your keys while trying to hang them on the hook, your bag bounces off the chair you toss it onto and falls noisily onto the floor, and your body lists as you walk towards your bedroom so that you bump your shoulder into the wall not once but twice. Your entry is a series of clatters and crashes and clunks, and yet when you make it to the bedroom your boyfriend’s attention is glued to his book as though by hypnosis. 

“Hi.” The word curves with the smile that takes you, tilting upwards. Remus looks up. 

“Hi, dovey.” He blinks foggily, taking you in with your hip leaned against the doorjamb and your ankles crossed awkwardly. “How was book club?” 

You feel your smile widen with delight. “It was great,” you profess. You aim for him, and Remus takes his book in one hand, holding the other out like he means to catch you. You land on the edge of the bed on your stomach, your feet dangling just above the floor behind you. “Everyone loved my banana bread.” 

“A show of good judgment,” Remus hums. He reaches behind you, helping you get your shoe off. “Is there any left?” 

One shoe comes free, and you let your foot fall back. “Mm, there was, but I left it for Maria.” 

Remus stops messing with your other shoe to look at you disappointedly. 

“I know, but she hosted! I had to be nice. I’ll make you another one soon.” 

He sighs, but it’s for show. Your other shoe slides off. “Fine, I suppose since she hosted.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” You pull your legs onto the bed and sit up, grinning at your boyfriend. He likes to play at selfishness, but you know he’d have done the same. Even if you’d asked, he would have told you to leave the bread. And he breaks easily now, returning your smile with one of his own. It feels like a warm tide rushing over you. 

“Oh. I feel like I should also warn you, I had quite a bit of wine.” 

Remus’ tongue presses into his cheek, a sort of outward-poking dimple. “Did you?”

“A little,” you say coyly, looking at him through your lashes. “It was sparkling and really yummy, what was I supposed to do?” 

“A valid point.” 

“So that’s just your warning. You’ve been warned.” 

“I will proceed with caution,” he assures you, a warmth to his voice. “What did everyone think of the book?”

“Oh.” You raise your eyebrows at him excitedly. “There was controversy. Big controversy. I super loved it, but a lot of other people thought it was the worst one she’d done so far!” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. They made some valid points, but I don’t know, maybe I’m easy to please, but I didn’t care about any of that stuff as much as I cared that I’d had a good time reading it, you know? And then everyone was giving their rankings of her books, and there were just some really crazy choices. Some people thought her second one was the best!” 

“No.” Remus manages to look upset for your sake, though he’s only heard about the books from you. “Did they really?” 

Your smile blooms anew at his enthusiasm, and you feel, suddenly urgently, that you’re not close enough to him. You move into his lap, but that’s not good enough either. At this point, Remus is looking at you with a fond, bemused sort of intrigue. You must be predictable enough, because only a soft puff of laughter exhales him when you start to worm your way under his sweater. 

It’s warm. You consider, for a moment, simply staying in there, with Remus’ chest and his smell and the sound of your own breathing, but ultimately decide you’d like to see him, too. You’d miss him too much. 

“Hello,” he says, not unhappily, as you break the surface of his neckline.

“Hi,” you say back. 

“To what do I owe this visit?” 

You shrug. It’s an odd movement, one of your shoulders stretching his sweater while the other bumps against his chest. “I wanted to be with you. It’s quite nice in here.” 

Remus only hums, tilting his head down to kiss your nose. It’s a slow, fond kiss, like he’s just decided to rest his lips there for a moment or two. It sends pleasant warm tingles from your face all the way down to your fingertips. 

“What else did you talk about?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“In book club.” 

“Oh. Well, not everyone there had read her other books, so we had to sort of get into the patterns and the things she always does. Some of it was routine for us, but totally unexpected for them, which makes sense I guess because…” 

You go on in circles and loops that even you can’t keep track of, your mind lax and happy and your lips moving seemingly on autopilot. You talk about the book itself and the people you read it with, and about the girl who’d hosted and how she’d had the cutest dog you’d ever seen, and does Remus remember that time you went to the animal shelter and saw that adorable puppy? Well, you mean no offense to the puppy because he was very cute, but this girl’s dog is even cuter than that. 

It’s an incalculable stretch of time later that you realize Remus has put down his book. 

“Oh, my god.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder. When you close your eyes, you feel like you’re floating. You really must be worse than you thought. “I’m so sorry. You were trying to read.” 

“Before you got home, yeah,” says Remus, his tone indulgent, “but now I’m talking to you.” 

“Yeah, because I won’t shut up because I’m all drunk,” you lament. “I know how annoying that is.” 

“Hey.” Your boyfriend’s voice is tender. “Who said anything about that? I’m not annoyed.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Why would you assume that I was? I love talking to you.” 

You try to look up at him, and your nose bumps his chin violently. “Oh.” You try to draw back, but there’s nowhere to go. You’re confined to the neckline of Remus’ sweater. One of your hands snakes up to touch clumsily at his chin. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

Remus tsks, his own hands coming on either side of your face to hold you still. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. Are you?” He runs a thumb gingerly over the bridge of your nose. 

It’ll probably bruise a little tomorrow, but that’s not something you’re going to tell him tonight. “Yeah,” you say meekly. “Thanks for dealing with me. It’s really nice of you.” 

“Oh, don’t,” he shushes you, pressing another gentle kiss to your nose. “I’m not being nice, sweetheart. And you’re not something to be dealt with. I love looking after you; it doesn’t cost me anything to do it.” 

You try to shrink down inside his sweater, and Remus tsks. 

“Tell me this, if I was blackout and legless, would you mind chatting with me and taking care of me?” 

“I’m not blackout drunk, Rem.” 

“For argument’s sake, let’s say.” 

You press your lips together, not wanting to concede the argument but your answer categorical. “No.” 

“Right, because you’ve done it before.” Remus looks at you with equal parts kindness and knowingness. “And were you annoyed with me then?” 

You’re almost offended he’d ask. “Of course not.” 

“I see.” His tongue pokes into his cheek again, lips quirking slightly. “Seems like that sort of thing might go both ways, no?” 

You push your face into his neck and sigh hard into his skin, making a little sound bubble up in his chest that sounds suspiciously giggle-esque. 

“You don’t always have to be right, you know.” 

“I usually am, though.” He wraps his arms around his own front, giving you a squeeze. “Best settle into that fact, dovey. It’ll make things much more efficient for us both.” 

[javiscigarette]

Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 

“I don’t- oh…” 

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

[i6eyes]

%% jean kirstein bf hcs !!

pt 2

contains: sfw and nsfw, implied fem!reader (no y/n), established relationship, soft jean teehee, jean’s horse cawk, nothing too graphic tbh

— who knew a fucking stallion will be the one who's going to bring me back from the dead .

sfw

omg omg he's soo tall right

definitely puts his arms around your shoulder, and kisses u on your temple or forehead too

the sweetest !! i feel like he would be so so attentive to u

oooh u did a double take at the dress u guys walked passed by earlier in the mall? woah it's suddenly in ur bed the next day !! :OO

he's a nice cook ! can cook but the best, his expertise are mostly breakfast foods but he can cook you lunch and dinner as long as he has a recipe

oh he'd be absolutely smitten !!!! i luv big scary men being total sweethearts to their s/o

if ur trying some shoes, he'd be the one to do all of the work ! he'd kneel down, take off your shoes, puts on what you chose on you, will be the who's going to take it off too, then will tie or buckle your shoes up for you

or or or, he'd be out alone and he passes by this little store filled with trinkets and stuff. safe to say, he walked out of the store with a silly little keychain he knew you'd like

^^ one of his love language is acts of service

he loves spending time with you. specially the moments where you two just chill and share some occasional kisses here and there

his favorite thing to do is have you lay on top of him while he's laying down and make you talk about your day !! he'd play with your hair and caress your nape and back while you do so :((

he's obviously attractive, but he doesn't know how much

there's so many simple things that he makes attractive

his attentiveness. you'd be in the grocery then he'd suddenly disappear for a while, only for him to come back with arms full of chips and snacks. "these are your favorites, right?" he said while dumping them in the cart, not even waiting for your answer.

oddly specific but the way he leans on every door way. you know the thing where people place their hands on top of a doorway? that, but he subconsciously does it everywhere. omg imagine he fetches you from your house for a date and the moment you open your door, boom! there's jean, towering you with a smile on his face.

he knows how to slow dance, like the ones in the movies where the main characters would suddenly dance in their living room, to which, he did with you!

slow dancing in the living room with jean :(

if you're still in school and he sees you struggling with a subject or school work, he'd help you as soon as he could, specially if it's something he already learned before. but! if that's not the case, he'd take his time to learn what you're having problems with and try to come up with an explanation to make you understand better

he's so lame (affectionate)

nsfw

oh boy

he's not the stallion for nothing

easily one of the biggest cock in the aot verse

usually, i'd be realistic when it comes to sizes, but jean is at 7-8 inches.

hhhhhhgggh, king of dick prints. he's naturally big even when soft, about 5 to 5.5 maybe. < he's a grower

he's such a big man, his proportions are perfect, of course he needs a big fucking cock to go along with it

he keeps his happy trail no matter what happens. he knows it's attractive and knows that you love seeing it on him

^^ up to you whether you want him to shave or trim, he's fine with anything as long as he keeps his happy trail

wide athletic shoulders that he puts your legs at while he's eating you out our splitting you open with his cock

this man's proportions are actually making me insane i don't know how to put my thoughts into words anymore

his hands are big, but not huge or ginormous. it's pretty and rough looking at the same time. his fingers are longer than most men's but are thick enough like the ones most are familiar with when thinking about a man's hand.

his nape is sensitive, simple touches like brushing his hair back will make him shiver. hickeys also show more easily on his neck, just suck on it lightly and there's already a blooming red mark left in its wake.

oh my god, touch his torso or the bottom of his stomach (ehem, close or at his happy trail) and he's gone. it's starting to become an actual problem because there would be completely innocent moments where you touch those places because you need to get pass by him and he'd just suddenly pop a boner on the spot.

*taps mic* soft dom

he absolutely loves praising you, it's an unconscious thing he does

you'd be on your knees, sucking in his cock on your mouth as much as you could, and he'd groan while keeping your hair out of your face using a hand while the other caresses your cheek, wiping away the tears that lay there.

^^ "there we go, knew you could do it.", "fuckin' natural at it.", "think you could take me a little deeper? uh huh? yeah that's my good girl."

im in shambles

he's SOOOOO good with his fingers my GOD.

he knows what it takes to make you cum with his fingers, he has an actual technique it's crazyyy. doesn't prioritize in making it fast or hard or whatever, whether you like it like that or slow, he will follow his own lead on what he thinks will make you feel spineless.

knows the fingers inside you, palm on your clit thing. has made you squirt using it on multiple occasions

while he adores missionary because he loves seeing your face and folding you in half with your legs beside your ears, doing it doggy will always make him carnal

he has a thing for your backkk. he'd grab the one side of your shoulder while he's hitting it from the back, sometimes he'd bruise your hips with his grip instead

will slap your ass. not really in a sub/dom dynamic. he just likes the way he sees his handprint on your ass while you're writhing beneath him

stroke game is unmatched !!!!!!!!!

he doesn't rely on his size alone, this bitch is actually prepared and knows his shit y'all

even if he doesn't or can't push all of him in, he'd work with what he's able to put inside you and god does he do it well

during missionary, expect him to put a pillow under your hips despite his size and knowledge. he want to make you feel the best at any given time

while he doesn't mind if you're a loud moaner or what, he LOVES hearing you whine.

if you're a whiner, boy is it a good time to be ALIVEEEEEE

he founds it so cute and hot <3

[sevensided]

#not saying id be satisfied with just a peck dont get it twisted#but i want it to be SWEET and hesitant and soft and quiet :((#like the first kiss in young royals#i see so many people say they want it like jancy or jopper and absolutely fucking not???#i need it to be soft#if someone tries to call me homophobic for this i will laugh in your face#i see posts all the time being like ‘oh youd be uncomfortable if byler made out wow youre so homophobic’ shut up youre so embarrassinggggg#they can kiss a lot but bro i dONT WANNA SEE THEM ALL OVER EACH OTHER TEARING EACH OTHER APART THEY ARE BABIES????#byler

feel like i am the only person who doesnt want byler to have a full on desperate sloppy makeout session

[dayasusays]

letting u know it took a month to write, edit and feel like a had to rewrite everything. i don’t usually write anything over 1k words, but here’s like 3.8k maybe… i hope you’ll enjoy it and it’s worth the time spend ! don’t forget abt feedback (comments especially) is very important <3

AND IT’S A REQ ACTUALLY i just forget to add it to the post :(

warnings ! — SMUT and ANGST, fem!vigilante!reader, blood and wounds mention, unrequited love, soft maledom, fingering, praise

summary ? — jason is not your friend, buddy, boyfriend or something.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY ‼️

of course it was an occupational hazard, jason thinks. of course he didn’t want to be around you so often, jason thinks. of course it annoyed him to see you too often after you’d patrolled together so many times, jason thinks. of course he didn’t like your smug, sweet face when you overtook him, jason thinks. of course his heart didn’t beat so hard every time he had to hold your hand when you almost fell off the roof, jason thinks. of course he finds you so annoying and smug that he wants to wipe that smile off your face, jason thinks.

he didn’t hate you, and you didn’t hate him. you’d say he's annoying and boring, but it’s fun to compete with him on things from who’s caught the most criminals to how many steps you get in a day. jason’d say you’re too smug, but seeing your face when you lose to him is very flattering. he’d say you know your stuff, and sometimes it’s nice to work with you. but only when you shut up.

he watches you at practice; he watches your every move and can’t help but sigh in admiration. todd watches you bite your lip every time you throw a punch and smiles contentedly. my god, one successful punch makes you feel so proud of yourself, and he catches himself thinking that he wants to push you against the wall and kiss you roughly just so you won’t be so cocky anymore. he wants to bite that lip, pull it back to put you in your place, and…

wait, what?

“you’re too close,” you whisper as he presses closer to you to hide deeper in the shadows of the alley, “move away.” “stop it,” jason mutters back, grabbing your hands and holding them in place.

you’re so annoying. he doesn’t wanna be this close to you either, he doesn’t wanna feel your breath on his skin either, he doesn’t wanna think about how pretty you are even in the dark. and you make it all the more difficult by twitching, pressing your breasts against his chest.

he looks down at you while you carefully avert your gaze. you’ve been working together for months, but it’s so embarrassing; todd chuckles briefly when he notices you lower your head and thinks about how you’ve finally stopped being so annoying, even for a second. even if that second is in the dark alley where you’ve ambushed someone, and when he’s so close to you that everything turns upside down inside.

“wanna go get something to eat after your patrol?” you look over your shoulder at jason, hearing an unintelligible mumble in response, “on the race. to the nearest diner,” you continue, already turning fully towards him with a tired smile on your lips as your stomach rumbles softly. todd has been acting weird lately. you’re not best friends and never have been, but you used to hang out a lot before; you’d eat together after patrols and often treat each other with the words that someone else should do it next time; he’d often let you leave early from patrols because you pretended to feel bad (he knew you were just tired); sometimes jason would even laugh at your jokes. but now you don’t even recognize him as… him. he became distant; the last time you ate together was a month ago. and you don’t care, of course. he’s a man with a personal life too, and you respected that. you two not even friends, you think.

“not tonight,” he mutters in a half tone, not even turning around to look at you, “maybe next week.” and that’s the fourth time he said it.

maybe you’re just worried about him as a coworker. he’s a vigilante just like you, and he’s not allowed to get his head in the clouds. but he doesn’t look like he’s distracted. he’s just avoiding talking to you.

when jason crashes through the window of your house, you have two questions: how does he know your address when you’ve never told him and he's never walked you home, and why all the blood that splatters on the floor as soon as he falls. and both questions go away when you realize that all that blood is his.

you’ve seen jason get hurt before, and you’ve seen it more than once, but it’s nothing compared to fixing him up on your own. he used to always give you directions when he couldn’t do it himself, and he always spoke loud and clear so that you wouldn’t panic too much, but listened to his voice; your hands were shaking as you bandaged him up while he kept whispering to you that you were doing the right thing. but now his voice was so weak you wanted to cry.

when he woke up the next morning on your couch, which he had soaked in his blood, he had two questions: why the hell did he go to you, if it was the last option, given that you were hardly a doctor, and what the hell should he do if he was in such a vulnerable position. it hurts to lift his arm, let alone stand up. and todd thinks…

his gaze falls on you: you’re lying on the floor, next to the couch, among his bloody suit and piles of bandages, and you’re asleep. his face unconsciously softens as he realizes that you’ve probably been sitting here all night, worrying about him and bandaging him up.

jason was even a little embarrassed; breaking into your apartment and ruining your whole evening (whole night) by making you worry. it’s almost childish, he thinks. he should have just gotten to the bat cave, he thinks.

“you okay?” you pull yourself up, sitting down by the couch and rubbing your eyes sleepily, “i only had time yesterday to wash your wounds and bandage you up, not sure that-“ “‘m fine,” todd mumbles back, letting a soft gaze fall on you, “thanks.”

it’s not the first time he’s thanked you, but a good feeling spills inside, making you blur into a smile.

it’s weird. seeing you twirling around jason while he tries to convince you that everything's okay feels weird.

“c’mon,” he mutters almost irritably, “i’m already fine. i just-…” “you’re staying,” you parry, frowning and folding your arms across your chest.

you hold out a bowl of hot soup to him and see the frown not leave his face. it’s almost funny — todd is sitting on the couch, frowning and looking up at you, just as stubborn.

it’s weird being together with you for so long, considering how distant he’s been for the last month, but when you plop down next to him and turn on some comedy on the tv, all thoughts evaporate. jason turns to look at you and sees you smile when you realize you’ve managed to change his mind.

he thinks that maybe you’re right; he should stay at least a couple of days.

you find yourself on the floor next to the couch where jason is sitting, holding his bandaged side; he’s trying to tell you something, but you can barely hear anything as your eyes run over his figure and you don't know what to do. you distinctly feel panic rise to your throat and you can’t hear his voice anymore.

you get up on woozy legs, sit down next to him, and todd makes another attempt to get through to you; you blink as your brain tries to get you to do something.

jason reaches out a bloody palm, grabbing yours and pulling you closer.

“calm down,” todd says a little louder, “‘m not dying, it’s just-…” he swallows, catching his breath, “just opened wounds. stop the bleeding and bandage me up again.” his words begin to reach you and you reach for the bandages that are already soaked in his blood.

jason sighs heavily as you sit down (practically fall) on the couch next to him and try to relax.

“you alright?” todd turns his head toward you and sees the tears of tension pooling in the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t quite know what he's doing as he pulls you onto his lap.

jason wants to think that he’s just comforting you; the way you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and murmur softly makes him wince. of course he’s in pain, ready to howl about how uncomfortable you’ve gotten on top of him, but he realizes that he’s been dreaming of this for the past six months-dreaming of feeling you so close that he can feel your heartbeat. “that’s alright,” todd mumbles, awkwardly stroking your hair, “‘m alright. c’mon,” he doesn’t notice the way he himself bumps his nose against the base of your neck and leaves a brief kiss there with his dry lips. it’s an accident, you think on the first kiss. he tries to get comfortable, you think on the second kiss. it feels good, you think on the third kiss and give in, pulling away from his shoulder and exposing more of your neck.

you feel his strong hands on your hips and move you closer; his thumb caresses the skin of your thighs, making you press your breasts closer to his as jason leaves another light kiss on your neck.

todd feels his head spinning as he hears your first moan.

gosh, he feels like a pubescent teenager next to you, because the way you’re pressed against him, your heartbeat and breathing quickening, is too much for him.

your palms gripping his strong shoulders, it’s too much; your open lips that beg to be kissed, it’s too much; your quiet sighs that turn into moans when he bites the skin on your neck, it’s too much; the way you breathe out his name, it’s too much.

he looks up at you, blinking slowly and muttering a quiet “should i stop?” as his palms lightly squeeze your thighs. and you realize you can’t get a word out of your mouth when jason is looking at you so lovingly. it seems like just a second before his pupils become hearts.

“keep going,” you whisper, lifting your head and leaving a brief kiss on his lips, “please.”

todd swallows hard and reaches forward to kiss you again; kissing you slowly and sensually, as if he’s afraid you might run away. but you cling to him, deepening the kiss and causing jason to moan low into your lips.

one of his palms slides up your thigh to your waist, reaching under your t-shirt and helping you pull it off over your head; a surprised sigh escapes his lips as he looks you over. “so pretty,” whispers todd as he continues to cover your neck with kisses. he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and he hears your moan, which he intercepts with a kiss.

jason trails kisses down your chest, making sure to leave a kiss on the crevice between when you pull away and catch the uncomprehending look in your eyes.

“lemme just…” you stand up, pulling off your pajama pants, and almost immediately sit back down on his lap when you hear a quiet hiss, “did i hurt you? should i get up?” “a little closer,” todd points and wraps his palms around your waist. he helps you move closer, “yeah, there you go.”

he looks into your flushed face and tries to squeeze out a brief smile, but only succeeds in a ragged sigh, pulling you in for another kiss.

his fingers slip under your underwear, quickly finding your clit and pressing gently; you nuzzle your nose into jason’s shoulder again, wiggling your hips in search of more stimulation.

and now, as he inserts his fingers, you moan softly in his ear, biting the soft skin; it seems the way you clench around his fingers is unbearable, because it’s todd is ready to equate that feeling with a sense of satisfaction. he’s ready to moan at the way you feel against his fingers, because the way you're asking him to be faster is just unbearable.

todd looks up at you, and something inside is definitely turning, because you can't look at him like that. look with such desire, while continuing to whisper how well his fingers are stretching you; he just can’t, just fucking can’t, when you look this good. jason finds you so adorable in this moment, when you arch your eyebrows to the bridge of your nose and ask to be faster.

“you're teasing,” you mumble and flinch when he roughly presses his fingertips against the sensitive walls, “c’mon, please…” your hands reach for the waistband of his pants, but he intercepts your wrists faster. “lemme get you ready,” todd quietly parries, kissing your earlobe, “just a little more. m’kay?”

it takes you a couple minutes to start almost begging him to fuck you; the way he takes his time is torture. he just wants to do it right, the right way: with foreplay and tenderness, which doesn't seem to suit him at all. but the way jason soothes you with short kisses on your temple as he inserts the massive head of his cock says otherwise. he's so gentle that you practically melt as you relax into his lap.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, covering your eyes and digging his nails into the skin on your waist, “that’s it, baby.”

for a moment he thinks you’re lovers. he’s so gentle and unhurried, and you're so beautiful and desirable. he wishes you were lovers. that all his tenderness was justified by your beauty.

todd gently pushes deeper as his fingers play with your hair in a soothing gesture; you moan muffledly, squeezing his palm harder. “sorry,” jason responds and stops, “okay?” his voice sounds like he's genuinely worried, and it's almost awkward, “can i keep going?” you nod, snuggling closer to him and your breath hitches as he makes another thrust.

you shouldn’t enjoy it so much. enjoying his tenderness and good sex is wrong, unfair to jason, but in the moment it feels so good that you’re lost in him for the sensations as he’s lost in you for the feelings.

todd gives you half a minute to get used to it, and afterward he pushes in again and again, wrenching sobs from your lips. “so tight,” jason whispers, nestling into your shoulder and biting down lightly. his fingers find your clit again and make a few circular motions, making you clench around his cock, “that’s it. doin’ so well for me.”

his free palm gently squeezes your thigh as he quickens his pace a little; his lips find yours to first lube the corner of your lips before pulling you into a deep kiss. your thighs bump against his as you once again lift up and sit back down with a loud groan.

this is unbearable, jason thinks. holding you so close and fucking you so well, knowing you’re not his, unbearable.

but right now his head is all about you and how you feel around his cock, so he moans as he cums inside, feeling you cumming with him, relaxing in his arms.

you shift from foot to foot as you hand jason the bowl of soup, and he looks up at you and sighs as he takes it. accepting for the first time in a couple days, because you hadn't even talked before.

awkwardness. realizing you slept with someone you have (almost) nothing for is awkward; realizing you can’t be in the same room with him for longer than a couple minutes is awkward; realizing you’re the one who let him do it is awkward; realizing how unfair it is to him is awkward.

“look,” todd starts as you turn around and walk off in the direction of your bedroom, “wait-“ “i’m tired,” you turn back to him over your shoulder and smile weakly, “i’ll talk to you tomorrow. okay?”

and you didn’t know (actually secretly hoped) that jason wouldn’t be in your apartment that morning.

and then you’ve been lying awake for two days since jason left your apartment. it was so fucking awkward that you want to turn back time and not have sex with him, because you don’t even know what to say to him or how to take it. you wanna think that it was just a mistake and you both gave in to the moment, but the way todd looked at you won’t get out of your head. he looked at you like you were his whole world and he looked so in love that it makes your stomach twist to realize what you’re doing to him.

sometimes you wish you weren’t vigilante. and this is that moment, because you can’t just run away from jason. disappear from his life so it’s not awkward, block his number and just… walk away because it’s not fair to him.

it’s not fair to him, you think. you shouldn’t have done that, you think, and you come to the conclusion that things will sort themselves out and go back to the way they were. at least you want to think that the way he looked at you was just a dream, and that all his tenderness was because he’s just… that way.

although deep down you realize you don't know a damn thing about jason todd, who you spent that night with and worked with for so long. maybe know a little bit about red hood, but not about jason todd.

“wanna go out to eat?” jason tries to sound carefree, but he can clearly feel that tension and awkwardness between you after that night. and so he can’t help but catch himself thinking that he shouldn’t have done it. shouldn’t have comforted you, shouldn’t have given in to the moment, shouldn’t have kissed you like you were lovers, shouldn’t have fucked you so tenderly, shouldn’t have looked at you with all the damn love, shouldn’t have… your mumbling makes him distracted from his own thoughts.

“can't tonight,” you parry, turning to him and trying to force a smile, though somewhere in your stomach there’s an uncomfortable feeling of anxiety that you can’t control, “things. lots of things to do, actually.”

and todd just nods back, staring into the darkness of the alleys, into the burning streetlights, looking at the people passing by, looking anywhere but at you. he knows he can’t fix it, so he tries to at least just make contact so it's less awkward.

but you’re not stupid and he’s sure you know what that night meant. you know what his eyes and all that indescribable tenderness towards you meant and that's why you’re avoiding him now. avoiding him just like he avoided you. he didn’t say that stupid “i like you” thing (which would have made him feel like a lovesick teenager), but now jason thinks that’s where he should have started, even if he knows that this (possible) relationship wouldn’t end up being anything good as long as you’re both vigilantes.

it's a matter of time, jason thinks, and casts a glance at you. you nervously run your fingers over it.

and you’re starting to annoy him. really annoy him. you’ve been avoiding any conversation, avoiding any contact even after three weeks since the incident, and it’s so damn annoying.

you probably think that by doing this selfishly, you’re helping you both avoid this awkwardness, but what you don’t know is that jason can’t even sleep well without thinking about you and what he could have done to make things go back to the way they were before. todd thinks about how you should have just said no to him. said that damn “i don't feel anything for you” and he would have gotten over it and you would have worked together and he would have just… not feel like he did something wrong. you think about the fact that keeping out of his sight is helping, but he’s looking for you everywhere you can be.

he can’t even catch you at practice no matter when he comes in. on patrols, you keep such a distance that jason knows you won’t be heard, and yelling across the street to call for you is stupid and irrational.

so he gives you another week in the hope that things will go back to normal.

but when you keep avoiding him even after a week, all todd’s patience comes to naught. you act so childish, he has to catch you on patrol and make you talk to him.

“what the fuck is going on?” jason raises his voice a little, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. the movement is sharp, but he doesn’t squeeze your arm too hard, so as not to hurt you. you see that pure frustration in his gaze as he looks at you, “you’ve been avoiding me for a month!” he stares into your eyes as if he can read your thoughts, and you try to look away again, “don't you fucking dare! answer my question!” “just-…” you stop talking, averting your gaze. it’s so embarrassing, you wanna run away. “what 'just'? can you tell me what’s going on?” todd steps forward, “if you’re going to say no to me, then say it straight out, not run from me for a month!” he yanks your arm, forcing you to pay attention to him.

it wasn’t supposed to end like this. in your head, it would take you a week to get over this awkwardness and work with jason again like you used to, but then you see him and it’s all over again with anxiety and awkwardness mixed with fear because you never planned on falling in love with him. so you kept avoiding him and the feeling that it was wrong kept growing.

“we're still… working together,” jason mumbles in a semitone, “don't make this any more awkward. just say no to me.” “sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you shift from foot to foot as he releases your hand, “coworkers, red?” you hold out yours to him and smile awkwardly. trying to smooth the moment over.

jason looks at you, at your palm, at you, at your palm… and turns around, shoves his hands in his pockets. just walks away, leaving you standing there. walks away with a broken heart and regret in the balance.

⁉️ m.lists | abt me | inbox 💌 (reqs are open)

[riaki]

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[luveline]

smart, younger reader who’s like spencer and is awkward but so so lovely and then guard dog botch who’s always there and always ALWAYS so sweet to reader after absolutely biting a guys head of about getting condescending or rude !!

if u would be so kind

thank you for requesting! fem

“Exactly! High five, Dr. Reid.” 

Your hands smack as Spencer gives you a heartfelt high five. Spencer is younger than you, but besides that, Hotch might think you were twins separated at birth (very genetically different twins, but twins nonetheless). If he believed in kindred spirits, that's what you'd be. 

And it's good for him. Hotch knows there are moments where he could've been nicer to Spencer, just that being his boss makes that more difficult than it should, and with you around, you've got all the niceness solved. You're lovely. 

“I knew we'd get there,” you say. 

It's great, but there are better places for your and Spencer's diorama than the office kitchenette. 

“Guys, can we move this to a desk?” he asks. 

He should say, Can we not do this in work hours? But he doesn't. That likely says something about him… he'd rather not explore. Something he already knows. 

“It's a bit delicate for moving,” you hum, eyes on the paper attachment you've created. 

“Move it,” he says, imploring rather than stern. He hides a smile behind the lip of his mug and begins to turn away, stopped momentarily by Anderson just past the threshold. 

Anderson begins asking him about something, Hotch listens, and he pretends he isn't still listening to you and Spencer as you decide what to do with your diorama. You speak in sweet tones, encouraging to a fault, “He doesn't really mind,” you're saying, “he's just the boss. I'll hold this side and you hold that side, and– woah!” 

There's a scuffle, an explosion of paper crunching and ceramic, the sound of water spilled. 

Hotch shifts to the side to watch the aftermath. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“I–” you say, hand clenched around a scrap of torn paper, coffee staining your shoes, “I– I–” Hotch winces as you struggle for words. “I'm so sorry.” 

“You've gotta be joking.” The man you've seemingly whacked into is an older agent. He's been around much longer than you have, probably almost as long as Hotch, and he has that jaded chagrin about him. Time constitutes knowledge, sure, but not attitude. “Why are you two always messing around in here?” 

“Sorry, Agent Giles,” you say, your hands creeping together toward your stomach defensively, “we were just moving this, and I- I'll–” 

“You're gonna make me another cup of coffee?” he asks contemptuously. 

“That's quite enough,” Hotch interrupts. “Agent L/N had no intention of bumping into you.” He stands to your side. “I'd be more than happy to make a new cup of coffee if it's an imposition for you.” His tone suggests he may not be very happy after all. 

“It's fine.” Giles turns his gaze away. 

Spencer's sprung into action, having fished the bits of your diorama and broken mug from your feet, now on his knees wiping up the puddle of coffee you've displaced. “Spence,” you say, “I'm sorry, I ruined it–” 

Hotch speaks up before Spencer can. “It was an accident.” 

You have this gutted, soft eyed look about you, embarrassed he's sure. You're a sensitive girl. You're probably more upset for Spencer than yourself, and aflame with the heat of the gaze of an entire office. He casts his head back to narrow his eyes at any nosing that's still happening before he touches your shoulder. 

“Sorry, Hotch,” you say, lifting your shoe a centimetre off of the ground. Coffee drips down the canvas of them. It squelches as you put it down. 

“It's okay.” The favouritism he works so hard to hide rears its head, unable to stand the sad quirk of your mouth. “Hey, it's okay. It was an accident. You have spare shoes and socks in your go bag, and it's,” —he lowers his voice to a fond, warm whisper— “not as though you and Spencer have anything to do that you'll actually hand in to me today. Don't let it upset you.” 

You raise your head too quickly at the sound of his teasing. Relief brightens your eyes. “You're not mad?” 

“Not at you.” 

You let that sink in. Hotch's hand drops to your elbow before leaving your sleeve altogether. 

“Reid,” he says. “Don't hurt yourself. I'll call the custodian.” 

“Please don't,” you say, turning your chest to his. So close he can smell the clean notes of your perfume. “We can do it.” 

“Alright. If you're sure,” Hotch says. He resists the urge to touch your face, though the way he looks at you isn't much better. The upset melts your face, replaced with a flustered freneticism that snaps him back into focus. He's your boss. 

He's your boss. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” you smile. 

He turns away before he's tempted into touching you again. 

[almightygremlinblob]

In Every Life (AMAB Ver.)

In which Sukuna falls in love with the Reader without realizing it.

Word Count: 5, 466 of slow burn. ⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: True Form Sukuna, Heian Era, Sukuna fluff, soft Sukuna, mentioned cannibalism, slight angst, Sunshine AMAB!Reader but gender neutral expressions used, Reader is not a sorcerer and is implied to be the only non-sorcerer of her village. THIS IS NOT BETA'D and I am very tired while editing this. SO! If you spot any mistakes, esp. around the parts lmao, since I made two ver. of this, pls tell me! Minors and ppl not okay with anything sexual pls DNI and have a nice day 👍🏽 AFAB!Reader (with gender-neutral pronouns) here

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️: Virgin!Sukuna, Sub!Sukuna, Reader and Sukuna both switch from gentle doms to subs, size difference, soft & fluffy sex, very messy sex, Reader makes out with the tummy mouth, anal, cock worship, Reader makes out with tummy mouth, lots of fluids in general, lots of mouths, consensual blood drinking, this is getting worse the more I write lmao.

You were happy you managed to catch the attention of the King of Curses.

Sure, you didn't exactly know how you did it. You weren't strong, or exceptionally beautiful like the sons and daughters offered to him. You weren't even that smart!

You were clueless, as a matter of fact!

So clueless that, nearly two weeks ago, you gave the strange looking man with four arms a warm meal and a place to stay for the night - since it didn't seem like the storm would let up any time soon. He was pretty much shunned by the rest of the village upon his arrival…probably due to the overwhelming energy that sent people into fight or flight…but he was just born different!

Probably.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"…"

You quickly learned that he didn't speak much, and he does not like to be looked at. Only watching as you go about your day - trying your best to navigate through the judgement and, frankly, abuse of the other villagers; ever as judgemental about you as they were likely to talk down on you, spread rumors and try to take advantage of your endless kindness. Not that it worked, though - and for that, everyone pretty much hated you. Despite his silence, your visitor was the only one that seemed to regard you without any ounce of hatred.

Then, one day…

"Why do you entertain them?"

"Ah!" You visibly jumped at that moment - up until now you were certain he couldn't speak. His voice was lovely baritone, but held a quiet authority - much like him…and a very clear evil but you wouldn't dwell too much on that. "M-me? Oh…of course, me…"

"U-um…I'm not entirely sure, actually. I don't like them, b-but…" Those sharp, piercing eyes are distant, scanning the forest as you tried to think of a reason. "I-I guess they're my neighbors. Friends? No. But it wouldn't be right to just outright ignore them."

"Hmph, of course…" He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. "You people and your morals…"

"Do you not have friends?"

"No."

"Oh…" Your shoulders slump slightly. "Then, consider me your first friend!"

"No."

"Oh…"

When you visibly deflate, he laughs lightly, shaking his head as if he's heard something utterly ridiculous. "Why does that bother you? You hardly know me. I could be a mass murderer for all you know."

"Because you…you're…" You think for a while, before finding the right words. "One of the most unique people I've ever had the blessing of meeting."

His eyes finally land on you. "Blessing, huh?"

------

Eventually, the villagers turned violent towards you and your guest, but you did your best to keep him safe - urging him to leave, quickly. It was that day, when you were nearly beaten to death, that you learned the strange man's name.

"Die, you peasant!" There was something in the way these villagers attacked. A strange energy that made it hurt all the more. You were bloodied, bruised and beaten to the point you couldn't even find the strength to scream. A blade was pointed to your throat. "Any last words?"

Despite yourself, you manage to spit at him.

"I didn't think you had it in you." That familiar low voice, low and uninterested, sounds from behind you both. Then, before your very eyes, everyone was somehow cut to pieces. No screams, or cries…just the sounds of flesh and bone being cut apart. You were probably hallucinating...

You see your guest walk beside you - the gore, guts and limbs not affecting him in the slightest.

"Ah, you're okay…" His eyes land on you again. "B-be careful…t-there's an invisible…invisible something that's cutting people up…"

He scoffs. "And if I told you that was me?"

"What."

"Tsk." He promptly grabs you and, without you even realizing, your wounds begin healing, closing up, and suddenly you're more aware than you were a while ago. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the bodies get further chopped apart. The gears in your head start to turn and your eyes widen. "O-oh…"

"Go on, then. Go ahead." He grabs your face, forcing you to look at the disembodied people and the growing river of blood. "Run."

"No. No…" Your breathing steadies, and you relax into his hold. He must sense it with the way his whole body tenses for a moment. "Not from you."

In the silence, you can practically hear him thinking as he gets up. And when he made no move, you realized he was waiting for you. So you got up too, wordlessly, and began to follow him. After a while of silence, he graces you with his voice again - quiet, almost…soft.

"My name is irrelevant…but people call me Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses."

------

And that was the start of your new life, as a servant of the King of Curses.

It…wasn't so bad! Sure, you could be killed any day, like a few of the other servants and many of the courtesans, but you also didn't do much! And, best of all, no more of those abusive neighbors! Your days were mainly spent helping the head servant - the attractive one with white hair and a pink splotch - do things for the king, for only up to four hours. Four hours! Then you'd spend the rest of the day doing whatever!

This was not one of those days, however.

Today, you were cleaning the Lord's study, in his chambers, along with the attractive head servant. There were...a strangely high number of Dokudami paintings...

"The Lord seems to have an obsession with this herb. Does he like it?"

"That's an interesting observation. Though you're mistaken. It's more the symbolism of this plant."

"And…that would be?"

"Its flowers are delicate, pure. The plant itself is medicinal against many illnesses - it's endlessly helpful. Kind. But it grows everywhere, even in the places not many grow. A surprising resilience despite it's 'delicate' nature." The head servant explains, and you can hear the tinge of amusement in their voice. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Uh…no? No one comes to mind…"

They simply snort at that.

------

The first time you were called to his chambers, you thought you were going to die. Actually, everyone thought you were going to die. They were all giddy at the thought. You didn't expect to just sit there in silence while he practiced his calligraphy.

"I can hear you thinking. Speak."

You fidget around a little, before getting the words out. "I've always been meaning to ask…why…why me, my Lord?"

He clicks his tongue. "You dare question my choices?"

"N-no! Only…I'm curious."

Sukuna is silent for a while, hand perfectly still as he thinks, before eventually speaking.

"You calm me." He sighs as his brush continues to move. "Somehow, every time, you calm me."

------

The courtesans could see you from outside, and you could practically feel them glaring daggers at you - endlessly furious and envious that you could be that close to the Lord.

"My Lord, you…never seem to show interest in your courtesans. Have they, I mean…" You weren't sure how to word it without coming off as too brash.

"Of course they try to bed me. They always do. Don't even try to hide that they're doing it to gain a semblance of power in my estate. The last two were just…" He waves his hand dismissively, tone making it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with the memory. "Had her head cut off and the second had his limbs strewn on the floor."

You feel his gaze on you, scowl evident in even his voice. "Why do you ask me about this?"

"It's just…you have so many, I thought, well..."

"Tsk. They only want something from me, and they think they can take it freely. From me. Me!"

"Surely not ALL of them…" You fidget a little. "Why would you keep them around if that was? There's…there's so many…"

You can practically hear his smirk. "Because their organs taste GREAT sautéed."

"A-ah…"

He snorts, seeing your discomfort. "Are you afraid of becoming like them?"

"I…hm…" You look up in thought. "Perhaps…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Then you truly are a fool."

"But…I think, it would be a good sacrifice." You finish the last area, as he goes awfully quiet. "Like an offering to a god. I think…I think I wouldn't mind that."

His presence is more than clear behind you, strong and foreboding. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Liar. Everyone says that…" He scoffs. "…but, nobody means it. If given the chance…"

You hear a sound, sharp and strong, much like a blade. A pain blooms from your wrist, and you realize you're bleeding lightly - only a few drops of blood at a time. "They all run."

"No. I wish to stay by your side, my Lord. I have nowhere I'd rather be." When you relax and make no move to run, a big and warm hand engulfs yours.

"You…weren't lying." You feel lips against the wound on your outer wrist, and the swipe of a tongue against it before the wound starts to close. "You fool…"

------

Many in the estate didn't like you, jealous of how close you were to the Lord - but it wasn't everyone. Now, it was everyone. Rumors fueling jealousy and malice for the very obvious favoritism.

Taking little nibbles, you didn't want to take more than your share.

The food was beyond AMAZING. However, Sukuna simply scowls as you shyly keep your head bowed and you must feel his gaze harden by the way you flinch under it.

"I apologize. I just…don't want to take more than my share…"

"Do you mean to insult me? This entire meal is yours." He scoffs, grabbing your bowl. He grabs one of the sushi rolls and puts it against your mouth, which is still closed due to your surprise. "Eat. I won't accept this…whatever it is you're doing."

"O-oh, I-…thank you, my Lord." You open your mouth and allow him to feed you. Light blush forming from how good the food is. Yes, that was definitely why. "My compliments to the chef. This is beyond delicious, my Lord…"

And it was true, the sushi, the miso soup, selection of meats, everything tasted DIVINE.

"Compliments taken."

WAIT-

You nearly choke on your food. "I-I apologize…my Lord. I, you…for me???"

"Use your words."

"I mean, ah…" You shake your head, trying to recover from your mind going into overdrive. "You…made this for me?"

"Yes." He says it so plainly.

"What…what for?"

He doesn't answer and, for once, looks unsure. "I…I don't know."

------

When you came out of his chambers unscathed the second time, everyone - except for Lord Sukuna himself and his servant - went into a frenzy. The servants were appalled, the courtesans were fuming, and you made sure to steer clear of everyone who now seemed to loathe you. And, soon enough, all your duties were either with the head servant, with Lord Sukuna, or by yourself. Still, you didn't feel safe in the estate anymore.

Then, one night, the head servant came to your quarters, stating that "Lord Sukuna has requested I take you to his chambers."

If you weren't going to die physically, you would die of embarrassment.

Still, you followed the white haired servant to his chambers, entire form trembling as you nearly stumbled over yourself. Sukuna glances you once over, and can't help the snort that escapes his lips. You looked like a newly born fawn with how shaky your legs were.

"My sincerest apologies. I just…nervous…"

"That much is clear. Sit." Something is off and you can tell he's tense. "This probably isn't going to go how you're expecting."

You do as he says, sitting seiza in front of him. Something sharp is pointed to your throat, right where the artery is. Your eyes go wide, but after a little bit, you allow your entire body to relax. If you should die by anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Look at me." He commands and you look up, seeing him holding a spear of sorts. For the first time, you see him - truly see him. His form beautiful, terrifying and divine all at once. Your eyes and body must show your adoration, because he looks away - as if uncomfortable.

He shuts his eyes, and the spear is repeatedly pushed against your neck, as if trying. However, it never follows through. This was so easy for him, and yet…

"My Lord, if I should die today, it would be the greatest honor for it to be by your hand." Your body relaxes, eyes close and you lean into the blade of the spear. Sukuna tenses, and you feel it in his hold. "If it's by your hand, my Lord, I can only die happy."

"Yes. That much you've made clear." You hear him sigh, tired and defeated, as the spear drops to the floor. "To think this is how I'd lose…how pathetic…"

"M…my Lord?"

"Leave."

You see him, frustrated and defeated, and it makes your heart ache to see him like this. Without even realizing it, your hand reaches out and stops just before touching him. "Might I stay for you? Please, I only want…"

His glare nearly has you frozen. "THIS is how you want to celebrate a victory over me?"

"No, my Lord. I only wish to stay by your side and help how I can."

He's quiet, clearly upset. "Do what you will with me. I might as well be worthless like this anyway."

"Never to me, Lord Sukuna." You take his hand in both of yours, and bring your lips to his knuckles but he quickly pulls his hand away.

"What?!" He snarls. "What use is your loyalty to someone like me now?"

"You are my Lord, Sukuna. I serve you…" Your eyes meet his, full of longing and concern. "Anything I can do to help you, please let me…"

His eyes briefly glance at your quivering lips, leaning in without realizing before he turns away with a click of his tongue.

"Leave."

And you do as you are told.

------

"How is Lord Sukuna?"

Was one of the most frequent questions you'd pester the head servant's ears with. They roll their eyes. "He's not frail, you know. You don't need to worry about him like a mother hen."

"I just…it's been a week since I've seen him! If he doesn't want to see me, that's fine, but…I-I'd at least like to know if he's okay…" You sigh. "And what I did wrong…so I can avoid doing it again!"

"Just give him time to process." The head servant states nonchalantly. "This is new territory for him."

------

The silence was…

Awkward, to say the least.

Not a word uttered as he continued to paint those stupid edible weeds in the candle-light. It was already late…

"A-ahem." Your voice breaks slightly when you clear your throat, and you feel his gaze on you. "M-my Lord, if there's nothing else, I shall retire for the night."

"Stay."

What.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Clearly your reaction was evident in your body, and you choke on your words before they even get out.

"That night was my first defeat." He says, as if sensing your question, yet you hear a tired and heavy sigh. "As of now, it's been my only one."

"But…have you been okay, my Lord?"

"Always about me, hm?" He scoffs, and there's tension as his footsteps grow closer. Your eyes meet his, beautiful and terrifying, when his fingers gently tug your chin up - guiding you to look at him. Guiding your body to the mattress as he cages you underneath him. "And why not just claim your victory? I have no right to complain. Isn't that what you meant to do the night you defeated me?"

"What? No! My, Lord, no! I-I'm sorry. It wasn't-I didn't mean-It's not what you think! I could never-" Your hands cover your mouth - shocked at the implication. "Oh Lord Sukuna, I bow to you! Only you! I-I will never, could never, force something like that on you! Not then. Not now…"

"Good. This was getting overwhelming." He sighs and then promptly rolls off you, plopping down to your side. Though your skins were still touching and, for once, Sukuna didn't mind someone this close to him in this way. He was relaxed, as if his worries melted away. You couldn't help the smile that grew. This was the Lord you know - a walking death and calamity, now pacified. You both face each other and he can't help but look away, cracking under the weight of your loving gaze - full of adoration, concern and awe.

Weak.

He was weak.

"Lord Sukuna, may I?" Your hand reaches out to him, stopping just before reaching the wooden part of his face. He was so terribly beautiful.

"Do as you wish." He mumbles, and you gently hold him - even though he doesn't show it, you can feel him tense.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" There it is again, the weight that makes him feel like he's breaking without being broken. "I know you don't need it, but I only wish to help in any way I can…"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he's able to finally find the worse. "You've broken me. Made me weak…and I can't even curse you, or wish we'd never met because I'd be lying."

You chuckle. "My Lord is far from weak."

"Yet I am powerless against you." His four eyes bore into you, in them a mix of desperation and longing, as you gently stroke the wooden part of his face. Finally, he closes his eyes, relaxing against you. "And I never thought defeat could feel like this…"

"Is it pleasant, my Lord?"

"It is…" You feel his fingers tracing along your collarbone, up to your jawline and you feel something wet licking your skin as his hand rests on your throat. A mouth on his hand, gently licking and suckling on the sensitive parts of your neck. "…but only if it's you."

"Lord Sukuna…" Despite everything, you feel he's still tense. "You're tense. Would you like me to…?"

"Yes. I meant to bed you tonight, but this…it's…" He sighs. "Overwhelming. I'm not clueless, but something about you makes it all…too much…"

"Then let me lead, my Lord." You gently push him down, and he lets you - following you as you guide him. His hand takes hold of your chin, pulling you in so your lips meet his. His kiss was tentative and unsure, or perhaps more accurately, scared. Scared of every feeling that threatened to overthrow him. You eagerly massaged your lips against his nonetheless. "Please…allow me to worship you tonight, Lord Sukuna."

His breaths become heavier when you straddle him, gently undoing his kimono while he easily rips your clothes to shreds with a flick of a wrist. Your lips mark his skin gently. Moving down to worship his mouth, jaw, his shoulders, both chests and finally to the mouth on his stomach - who was breathing just as heavy. Sukuna tenses when you take his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and explore the much bigger one with your smaller tongue.

When you pull away, there's a small pool of saliva where the stomach mouth lay open and plenty on you where the mouth-hands had left their marks on your skin. Both his cocks, beautiful, heavy and fat, sat on his stomach where they were already leaking with arousal. Sukuna's breathing turned heavy, and as your hands move to his waist, stopping just before doing anything, you look up at him. "My Lord, if at any time you wish for me to stop, please say so. I will stop without hesitation or question."

"Always about me…" He chuckles and, in a sudden movement, easily manhandles you so your ass is on his stomach-mouth. "No, I do not wish to stop. But if you truly ask for nothing in return, then let me be gracious."

"M-my Lord, ah-" Your eyes roll back when you feel that giant tongue lapping at the rim of your hole, the both of you moaning as he did so.

"Delicious…" A hand finds its way to your length, giving it lazy strokes before a mouth opens up and begins licking you - before taking you in. The heat of his mouth felt absolutely divine. The mouths on his other hands suck hickeys and bite the skin of your neck, while they find the sensitive nubs on your chest and harshly tug at them with teeth and lips, too. You hear a noise that's half-way between a whimper and a moan. "…everything about you…so delicious…"

"That's it, my Lord. I'm yours tonight…" You sigh, mind in bliss as your hands find his cocks. He bucks his hips when you begin to stroke him - slowly, before building to a steady pace. His cocks were thick and fat, heavy and veiny and monstrously beautiful in all the ways that had you nervous to take him. They throbbed eagerly, dare you say even aching for your touch. Bowing down, you take one of his tips into your mouth, careful not to let your teeth get in the way. The way his tip had pulsed and the amount of arousal you had to swallow down, had you moaning and whining happily as you swallowed his cock. Amidst the low growling of his stomach mouth, you hear a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a moan, and feel him buck his hips into your mouth as you lick and suck on him eagerly - tongue, lips and hands feverishly worshipping Sukuna's heavy, monstrous lengths.

The tongue begins to enter you, and you nearly cum on the spot - choking on his cock. Slowly, it reaches deep, deep enough to hit that spot that has you seeing stars. When you continue to moan, Sukuna's hips move on their own - tip fucking your mouth while you drool and stroke him.

You both get lost in pleasure. His large tongue tastes and moves eagerly inside you, practically assaulting that sweet spot as the stomach mouth continues to growl and whine and drool. While you eagerly suck on and stroke his twitching and throbbing lengths and he returns the favor, albeit a little more sloppy.

A guttural moan escapes Sukuna's throat when he releases into your greedy mouth, and you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer while his other cock paints you in white. Drool, precum and his seed still leak out your mouth, though - and you quickly find it's too much. Before you can stop yourself, you release into the mouth sucking you off - ass clamping down on the large tongue inside you as it continues to move inside of you, well past your high. You cum heavy into one of your Lord's many mouths, and it gags on your cock - the sensation making you spurt more into the mouth that greedily tries to swallow everything.

His tip leaves your mouth with a sloppy and wet pop and with a groan, both tongues take one final lick before retracting back. You both are breathing heavy, shaking a little as he repositions you to face him. His hand caresses your face, eyes completely dilated as he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh.

"Oh, gods, look at you…"

"My Lord, I-" Your eyes widen a little as you struggle a little in his grasp. "Wait-"

"Have you forgotten who you answer to?" He clicks his tongue. "You are in no position to make demands of me."

"I…answer to you, my Lord." You still, realizing what he was asking you. "I'm sorry."

There's a small silence as you look away bashfully. However, when you glance back at him and are met with a frown - there was the sudden realization of an unsaid question waiting to be answered. He hasn't moved at all. Immediately, you explain yourself, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I-I'm still a bit sensitive, is all…but I-I still want this! Truly, my Lord! I-I want…I want you, still."

Your voice comes out a little higher than you would have liked, but it seemed to quell him nonetheless.

"As am I, but…" He sighs and before he looks away, you capture his lips in a chaste but wet kiss.

"I know." You bite your lip bashfully and your voice comes out soft and sweet in all the ways that make his cocks twitch. "But, I did promise to worship my Lord tonight. I shouldn't make a promise I can't keep."

When your hands begin to stroke him again, slow and gentle, Sukuna practically throws his head back, biting back a low whimper while his stomach mouth shamelessly groaned and panted. He cursed as his hips began to move on their own, muscles tensing as his cocks grew hard again. Yet when your eyes lock he only sees adoration and longing in them as your hands worshipped him diligently. Not the empty lust he saw in everyone else who wanted him this way but could never get close.

"You look incredible like this, my Lord." Your voice comes out raspy and full of longing, and it tears a near animalistic sound from him.

"Enough." He growls, and you immediately stop. "Let me inside you."

"Anything for you." A mix of arousal, anxiousness and excitement overwhelms you as you climb on top of him, positioning yourself so his bottom cockhead kisses the entrance to your ass - readying you as it spurts those large trickles of precum. The both of you share a guttural groan as you sink down on one of his cocks, the free one throbbing delightfully in front of your own length. Sukuna was massive, to say the least, and despite how dripping wet he was your legs were still shaking from the wonderful strain. Although, your gummy insides took him in eagerly while being stretched to their limit.

The initial pain of the stretch was nearly drowned out by how wonderful he felt inside of you - fat and veiny cock completely filling you, dragging deliciously along the inside of your ass. You could feel him his arousal leak inside you, lubricating you plenty, and his length pulsing like a second heartbeat. And when you fully sheathed him inside of you, you both almost lost the ability to think properly.

"S-Sukuna, my Lord…" You'd be embarassed by how shameless you sounded with your Lord now fully inside you, his fat mushroom head leaking on and throbbing against that sweet spot. His hands rested on your hips, keeping your bodies joined with a messy puddle of arousal underneath you both. Sukuna's eyes were rolled back and fluttering slightly while his stomach mouth was open with his massive tongue lolled out, making a noise somewhere between a low growl and a whimper. Seeing him like this nearly sent you off the edge.

"O-ooh, gods…" He groans when he feels you clamp down on him, and a hand pulls your head into a clumsy kiss. You feel his breath turn into full on panting when he tasted himself on you, the hands on your hips now painfully digging into your skin as he begins to thrust up into you - sloppy, slow and languid, as if trying to get even deeper and split you apart. Your free hands, once caressing the wooden part of his face, now move down to stroke his free cock - earning you a low growling from the stomach mouth as it started panting.

"Oh, you feel heavenly, Lord Sukuna…" As if encouraged by your words, his thrusts start to get faster, harder - a steady rhythm beginning to build. "That's it. You're doing so well, my Lord."

"Ngh, ah…" Your Lord made such sweet sounds.

Neither of you were going to last long, it was all too much.

"A-ah, it's so good my Lord…" The pain had long subsided, replaced only with ecstacy. Sukuna's fat and heavy cock dragged along every part of your insides, and the feeling of the warm arousal dripping from his tip and the throbbing of his veiny length had you near screaming into his mouth. Your Lord was completely filling you and leaving no part of you unloved. While your ass, already sloppy and wet with Sukuna's arousal, desperately sucked him in every time you and him moved, only to be rewarded as he thrusted back in and you bounced back down on him, wet velvety insides squeezing him tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Without you even realizing it, your body was unconsciously and sweetly worshipping and loving your god. "I love you, Lord Sukuna!"

Something in Sukuna snaps upon hearing those words, which were otherwise empty - had it come from someone else.

"I want to taste you." He practically whimpers into your mouth as you both pant and continue to knot tongues. The kiss is clumsy, inexperienced, but you were far too lost in love to care - exploring your Lord's mouth eagerly while you struggle to ride his beautiful, monstrous form. The tongues on his mouths sucking, biting and tasting your skin; marking every bit of your body they could. This would hurt, but you didn't care. You only wanted to show your god how much you loved him. "Let me taste you…"

"Yes, my Lord. Anything-" This would hurt, but you didn't care - only wanting to show your god how much you loved him. "Anything you wish of me…"

With the flick of his wrist, there's a sharp pain on your tongue and a metallic taste floods both of your mouths - there's not enough damage to fully cut off your tongue, however, only a cut.

"Swallow me." Sukuna's breath hitches as he continues to kiss you, letting out a noise between a growl and a whimper, and you realize that it wasn't only your blood in both of your mouths. An offering of a devotee to their god, and a god to their devotee. You eagerly swallow each other's blood, moaning into your mouths as you share the messy, bloody kiss.

"Y-yes, keep going my Lord…" You continue to encourage him, as one of his hands moves to take both of your lengths and stroke them together. You and Sukuna both throw your heads back and nearly yell as the mouth on his hand opens up and swallows the both of you - tongue working eagerly on both your tips while your hands work on the shafts. "Cum for me, my Lord. Please…"

His thrusts get faster and harder, and you bounce on him just as fervently. What was once a steady rhythm has now turned sloppy as you both rode each other into your high. Sukuna reaches his orgasm with a choked yell, and you reach yours with a scream - bodies tensing as you both get lost in each other and neither of you stop moving. His warm and thick seed floods your insides, far too copious and spilling over. Your ass spasms and clamps down on him, almost painfully milking and sucking him in, desperately trying and failing to keep his overflowing love inside. The mouth that held both of your cocks greedily tries and fails to swallow all of the overflowing love as you and Sukuna both cum heavy into it.

It feels like forever, but you eventually collapse on top of him - both of you too tired to pull out of either hole. Though the mouth that held both of your cocks still lazily licked up at all the overflow. Minds completely muddled neither of you could think, bodies shaky with the high and tranquility of post-orgasm. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for a while, before he silently cups your face and you feel the sting on your tongue disappear. With shaky hands, you touch your tongue and find the cut was healed.

"Thank you for sharing your blood with me, my Lord." You bury your face in the crook of his neck. "If I may, might I stay the night?"

"You'll be staying here every night, from now on." Without realizing it, his lips reach your forehead. "And for the rest of eternity, you will never leave my side."

"Yes, my Lord. I swear it." It was one simple, powerful vow that had you staying by his side for the rest of your life…

And made you return to him, in every life after.

-----

My GAAAHD was this difficult to write. Not the writing part itself, NO. But finding the time for writing. YEEESH. Anyways, have a great day!

[hier--soir]

bite the bullet

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two idiots finally bite the bullet and admit how they feel. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, age gap [20 years], angst, miscommunication, a meddling Tommy Miller, soft sleepy sex, oral [f], unprotected piv, masturbation [f], rimming, sixty-nine, both of them are assholes for a minute, resolved emotional tension. word count: 9.4k [i got carried away sorry!] series masterlist | masterlist this is part four of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, three.

Everything was wet.

Your feet squelched against the ground as you moved, little flicks of water splashing up against your shins with every step. Inside waterlogged shoes your socks clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Tommy was crouched underneath your sink, inspecting the u-bend of the pipe there, his lower half damp from the water that covered the floor of your kitchen.

“It’s definitely comin’ from in here,” his muffled voice came, and you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in exasperation. “I can stop it, but it’s gonna take some time for the place to dry out. I’d say you’d better clear out for a few days, leave a few windows open.”

You’d had a nice day. A lovely day, even. And you’d been looking forward to curling up with a whiskey and a good book before bed. But upon returning home from the greenhouse, you’d been horrified to find the entrance of your home covered in a thin layer of water. Splashing down the hall, you’d discovered that the entire place was wet; a shiny film of liquid coating anything that touched the ground. The wooden floorboards were soaked to the bone with cold water. A fucking flood. Thankfully Tommy was right, and you trusted that the August humidity would naturally dry it out with enough time.

“I can’t just stay here? I didn’t think it was too bad,” you lied. “Could lay down some towels.”

Tommy laughed under the sink. “You know you’ll get sick if you’re sleeping around all this water – towels or no towels.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, gazing at the floor glumly. “Okay, yeah, I suppose I’ll uh… I’ll get some stuff together.”

“Joel would take you,” his said, and you snapped back to reality, staring at his back while he worked. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. When you didn’t respond, his head reappeared, and he looked at you curiously, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “You and Joel are pals, right? Pals help each other out.”

Pals, you thought cynically. That’s one word for it.

Two weeks had slowly passed since the Peterson incident, and you’d only seen Tommy’s older brother a handful of times. There was still a tense energy between the two of you, so you’d been keeping your distance a little, allowing things to cool off. Bumping into each other here and there, dinner on the same table at the hall… but no alone time. No real time that would leave you two open to actually talking about it. That didn’t mean it didn’t play on your mind, though. Oh boy did it. In fact, most days you’d catch yourself gazing into a pot plant, thinking about that night. The way he’d taken you, made you tell him the details about Peterson, the way he’d showed you he fucking owned you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the way it had made you feel, and so you avoided it, even though your chest ached with the Joel-sized hole his absence had left in it. At least you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t admit to yourself how much you missed him.   

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Tommy gave a polite shrug, smirking at you. Testing you. A huff escaped your lips, and you broke eye contact, stretching out your shoulder. “Yeah, alright, I’ll ask him,” you agreed begrudgingly, brain whirring trying to come up with excuses. “It’s late though, and he might not want me there.”

“It’s not that late, but sure,” he chuckled knowingly, going back to work on the pipe. “When hell freezes over and Joel says no to you, you let me know.”  

An hour later, you were on your best friend’s porch, a bag slung over your arm, hesitating with your knuckle raised in the air. Taking a deep breath and running through what you were going to say, you finally willed yourself to rap your fist twice against the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Joel, in a soft wrinkled t-shirt.

An easy, involuntary smile spread across your face upon seeing him. His beard was a little longer than he usually kept it, greys sparkling through the dark hair that framed his mouth so handsomely. He had clearly been settling down for the night, and he looked oh so cosy dressed in his sleep clothes.

“Hey man,” you offered up a sheepish smile.

He looked appropriately surprised to see you, considering you certainly hadn’t been knocking on his door at any point in the past fortnight. One of his eyebrows hitched upward, and he eyed the bag over your shoulder warily. “You skippin’ town or something? Who’d you piss off this time?”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted the duffel. “You gonna let me inside? This thing’s kind of heavy.”

He stepped back into the entryway with a grunt, allowing you to breeze past him and dump the bag onto the ground with a low thud. “Pipe under my sink is busted. Flooded the whole place today – Tommy said I should clear out for a day or two.”

He hummed, narrowed eyes raking over your face. “Oh yeah? So where you gonna go?” he teased, and relief rushed through your veins like warm water as you recognised the smirk threatening to take over his face.  

You gave him a small laugh and sighed, holding your arms out in mock surrender. “Come on, Miller,” you said. “Let me crash here – I’ll owe you one.”

“Owe me one, huh?” his eyes shone with mischief. “Well I like the sound of that.” An odd, twisting sensation rippled through your stomach and you sucked your lips into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Sure,” you retorted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” When the words left your lips you both stilled, staring at each other warily.

He hummed, eyes darkening a fraction. “You’re playin’ with fire,” is all he said, before bending down to pick the bag up off the ground and ushering you towards the stairs.

You wondered off ahead of him, and when you reached the landing you veered right, pushing open the door to the spare room. He didn’t follow you in immediately, instead pausing in the doorway with a frown plastered across his face. You hadn’t thought about where you’d be sleeping until the second you reached the top of the stairs, but you knew this was the right decision. Sharing a bed with Joel for a few days? Probably not a good idea. Unless of course, that was going to be how you repaid your debt…Thankfully, or unfortunately, he didn’t push it, dropping the bag gently in the corner of the room.

“Hope Ellie won’t be bothered I’m here for a few days,” you thought aloud. The tone noticeably shifted, and you almost at how Joel seemed to deflate.  

He leant an arm against the doorframe and sighed. “She ain’t spendin’ much time in the house these days,” he admitted quietly. “Stays in the bungalow or goes out. I doubt you’ll even see her.”

You hesitated for a second before asking, “Have you two spoken much lately?”

He scratched his chin for a moment. “You know the kid,” he shrugged. “She’s stubborn. M’tryin’ not to push it.” 

“It’ll be okay, Joel,” you offered softly. “She’ll come around.”

He assessed you silently, eyes flitting down your body before resting on your face once again, and then he stepped back into the hall. Coughing awkwardly, he raised a hand in a sort of farewell, and said, “Well, uh, you know where everything is. I’m gonna… I was gonna head to bed, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as he turned to head toward his room.

“Hey, Joel, wait,” you called, and he turned, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. I miss you, you wanted to say. I miss you, and I’m sorry things are off between us, and I wish we could forget it all and go back to normal, and I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. “Thank you,” you said instead, voice soft. “I really appreciate this.”

The look in his eyes dimmed a little but he offered up a smile. He nodded once, said, “Glad to have you here,” and then closed his bedroom door, and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After showering and unpacking the few things you brought along, you curled up in the foreign bed. The mattress was soft enough though, and the sheets smelled like the soap Joel used. Your body ached from a long day of work, muscles tense and wired from hauling heavy pots around under the sun. Soon enough, you began to relax enough to drift off to sleep. Only a few hours into the night though, your dreams were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps padding across the landing. A beam of soft yellow light was shone into the room, painting the inside of your eyelids orange. Cracking an eye open, you saw that the door was ajar, and a tall figure was peering in.

“Joel?” you asked groggily, dragging a knuckle over your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” his deep voice came, but he made no move to enter the room. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said softly, and your heart clenched.

Pulling the blankets open on the empty side of the bed, you didn’t even think before you said, “Get in.”

Your head fell heavily into the pillows, and sleep tried to pull you back under as you listened to Joel shuffle across the room and slide into the bed beside you. For a moment, he just laid there, a sizeable gap between you on the mattress. And then his warm, firm body was pressing up against your back, his large palm sliding over your hip to rest on your stomach and guide you back against his chest. His scent overwhelmed you, hints of mint and soap and pine tickling your nose, and fuck you had missed him. it was so familiar, and yet your body tingled as if it was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on you. Through the haze that settled over your sleep addled brain, you could feel him, stiff against your thigh.

“Jesus,” you teased drowsily, throwing caution to the wind by rubbing yourself back against him. “Were you having a dream about me or something?”

His nose traced a long down the back of your neck and you fought off a shiver. “Always dream about you.” If you weren’t so tired, that probably would’ve garnered a bigger reaction from you. But as it were, you just brought a hand down to rest over his on your stomach and gripped his fingers softly. “Was thinkin’ bout you being so close, yet still so far. Just down the hall, sleepin’ in my sheets…”

You hummed, warmth flooding your abdomen as he nudged his hips forward, rutting himself against you. His hand drifted out from under yours to slide up underneath your shirt, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your breast.

“Joel,” you murmured, eyelids heavy.

He hummed eagerly, planting a soft kiss underneath your ear.

“I‘m so tired,” you said regretfully. “It’s been a long day – can hardly keep m’eyes open.”

“Let me help you fall asleep,” is all he said, hand now freely roaming over your chest. His thumb lightly brushed the firm peak of your nipple and your whole body shuddered. “Just relax.”

You were vaguely aware of him pulling the covers off you and moving down the bed, dragging soft kisses down your stomach, before dragging your underwear down your legs. Slumping into the soft bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

Gentle, reverent kisses were pressed over your hip bones as he settled between your legs, pulling one of your thighs up to rest over his shoulder. His long fingers rubbed over the muscles in your leg, pressing down gently when he found knots, pulling deep sighs of contentment out of you.  

“That feels nice,” you whispered into the darkness, and you could’ve sworn you felt him grin against your hip.

When his nose dragged through the dark hair on your mound you twitched slightly, body waking up a little at the sensation. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and you relaxed again, humming lowly as his pressed a kiss against the inner most point of your thigh.

It felt like hours passed with him between your legs. At first you allowed yourself to slip in and out of near sleep, eyes closed as lax puffs of air escaped your mouth while his tongue dipped gently between your folds, giving you soft lazy strokes that warmed your insides. When the first bit of slick began to seep out of you, he groaned gratefully, licking and sucking at your entrance, exulting in your taste.  

It felt like you were dreaming. Laying pliant on the bed, you were fully at his mercy, allowing him to move your legs anyway he wanted to give himself better access. You could vaguely hear him murmuring against your skin, but couldn’t make out the words over your own sighs, smiling sleepily as his tongue lapped against you. He worked slowly, and you realised that it was as much for his enjoyment as it was for your own. You knew by that point how much Joel enjoyed going down on you. He had told you as much on multiple occasions; how he’d love to spend hours with his face trapped between your thighs. But he’d never had the chance, or the patience, to really do it.

The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated against your core, echoing through the room around you. The way he fucking moaned into your cunt never failed to drive you crazy, but in that moment you just smiled at the sound, enjoying how peaceful it was, how sweet.

Every now and then you��d lazily blink your eyes open and look down, expecting that at any moment he’d pull away, be over it. But he never did. Every time you looked his eyes were closed, hands gripping your thighs softly, thumbs stroking rhythmically against your skin as content breaths rushed out of his nose, and you’d close your eyes again, the dark image of him scorched into the inside of your eyelids, never to be forgotten.

You started to feel more awake when he finally gave his undivided attention to the achingly sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your core. Moving painfully slow, he glided his firm tongue across your clit, switching it up between swiping back and forth across it and then circling it.

“Oh,” you murmured lowly, voice hoarse from lack of use, but you couldn’t help the soft exclamation as your hips shifted upwards, suddenly searching for more. He didn’t change a thing, pace never increasing or slowing down, and it was perfect.

Your orgasm washed over you in gentle waves. Joel’s tongue swirled slow, gentle circles around your clit and your thighs tensed around his head, fingers reaching down to softly rake through his curls. He hummed happily, tongue lathing against you, enjoying every second of your release. Only pausing once your body stopped twitching and the muscles in your thighs relaxed against him, before kissing way up your stomach, your neck, under he was holding himself over you.

Eyes still closed, your hands drifted to the back of his neck and you pulled him down, his weight crushing against you but you didn’t care. Yours lips met tentatively, and for a moment that was all it was. A soft, gentle kiss. And then you felt him, straining against his briefs, pressed between your thighs, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. It was messy and slow, tongues tangling together, teeth knocking awkwardly, and you found yourself smiling into his mouth. It should have unnerved you. Should’ve been enough to make you stop, turn your head away and make him fuck you rough so you would forget how intensely intimate the moment felt. But you didn’t.

“You should sleep,” he murmured against your lips, pulling his hips back a little so his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“You should come inside me,” you whispered back, reaching down to grip the band of his underwear and tug them down over his hips. He groaned and kissed you again before reaching down to free himself from the confines of his underwear.  

No other words were exchanged as he adjusted himself, and then he was pressing into you, his needy moans spilling out against your neck while your hand snuck underneath his shirt, fingernails gliding down his back as he filled you completely.

“God, I missed you,” he choked out, voice cracking. You whimpered softly. “You’re so wet.”

“Made me feel so good, Joel,” you preened, kissing the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, and you nodded, staring at him through bleary eyes. Joel kissed you again. A long, yearning kiss that made your heart throb, and it didn’t take long until he was falling apart on top of you, shaking against your arms that wrapped around him, held him against your chest. You whispered praises in his ear as he came, hips grinding into yours, pushing himself so deep inside that it had you gasping into his mouth. It was so unlike any other time you’d ever slept with him, and alarm bells rang somewhere far in the deep recess of your brain, but you ignored them. You’d missed each other, and you’d both earned a little softness after the time apart. And so the two of you fell asleep like that; tangled in each other’s arms, with him still inside you.

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. The light was harsh, and you cursed yourself for going to sleep without drawing the curtains. You went to sit up in the bed but stopped suddenly, realising how hot you were. With a soft start, you glanced down and understanding jolted through you like a flash of lightning. Joel’s house, you remembered; you were at Joel’s house. But what you hadn’t expected to find was Joel still in the bed, arms coiled around you like wire while he snored quietly in your ear. For as many times the two of you had slept together, neither of you had ever slept over. It was an unspoken rule, and one that had never been difficult to follow. But he’d broken it… or you’d both broken it, maybe. Keeping your body as still as possible, you found yourself breathing deeply, trying to maintain the allusion of still being asleep to avoid rousing him from his slumber. Frustratingly, your heart pounded in your chest, brain zeroing in on every part of your body that touched his.

His soft lips brushed the back of your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin. A solid knee was wedged between your legs, one hand lazily gripping your breast. The insides of your thighs were sticky where his come had leaked out of you overnight, and your eyes widened at the sensation. 

What surprised you the most wasn’t that you didn’t hate waking up with him beside you. No, what surprised you most was that you did like it. In fact, you found yourself longing to relax into his arms and go back to sleep. But common sense reared its head, and you slowly slipped out of his grasp, moving slowly so as not to wake him while you dragged yourself out of the bed. Staring down at Joel, a pang of fondness rush through your chest. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead, plump lips pushed out into a pout as he breathed deeply, hand resting on the empty bed where you had just laid. His breathing hitched momentarily, and you froze, realising how odd it would be for him to wake up and catch you standing there naked, staring. Trying not to give it another thought, you quietly collected some clothes from your bag, and slipped out of the room to start your day.

Hours passed in the greenhouse. You distracted yourself with cucumber seeds and tomato plants, pushing Joel out of your mind as you worked under the sweltering sun. Underneath the glass roof of the nursery, the heat multiplied, and by the time your shift was over you were covered in sweat, shirt ticking uncomfortably tight to your back. You stopped by at the community hall for dinner and ate alone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts of Joel, Joel, Joel. You couldn’t shake the feeling that had lingered in your bones all day; the aching desire to have stayed in bed with him, to have relaxed into his arms and cuddled him for the rest of the morning. Your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ,” you mumbled aloud through a mouthful of food, rolling your eyes at yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy, but the worst part was understanding that this must’ve been how he’d been feeling for weeks already.

I’ve never asked you for anything. Not for anything more than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

That’s what he’d said, two weeks ago, the day he found out about Peterson. The words played in your head like a mantra. Words that you had firmly avoided bringing up, ones you’d never pushed for an explanation about. You’d chosen to sweep them under the rug, and yet, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t fucking forget them.

By the time you returned to his house you discovered him sitting on the couch downstairs, engrossed in a book. It was the picture of domesticity. The sweet scent of vanilla floated through the air towards you, and you noted the small candle burning on the table beside him.

Staying in Joel’s home, even for just one night, you’d noticed so much more about it than ever before. There was something interesting to look at everywhere you turned, and sweet-scented candles were just the tip of the iceberg. He left random objects littered across countertops, like little treasures for you to stop and inspect during your travels throughout the house. Wood that he’d whittled into interesting shapes, books that he’d read the first few pages of and then abandoned, countless mugs in odd places with dark brown coffee stains at the bottom of them. It was homey, and warm, and subconsciously you found yourself enjoying the insight into his most private space – into the things he did when he was truly alone.

Joel hadn’t noticed you come in, so you seized the opportunity to watch him from the doorway for a moment. He was wearing his comfortable clothes again, and a thin set of reading glasses were perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. A quick flash of heat tore through your stomach. You’d never seen him wear those before, and it had you stumped. The glasses, paired with the salt and pepper through his beard and hair, reminded you of his age. Twenty years older than you, and still the most handsome man you knew.

You finally broke the silence, announcing yourself by asking, “What’re you reading?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he stared at you over the top of his glasses. Shutting the book quickly, he straightened up on the couch. “Uh, Brave New World,” he lied, flipping the book so you couldn’t see the cover.

You hummed, unconvinced, and bit down on your bottom lip to hide a smirk. Tommy had told you once before that Joel was a sucker for gothic romance novels, but you’d never truly believed him until that moment. From where you stood, you recognised the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights that had gone missing from your bedroom a few months prior.

A flush rose in his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, picking up a mug that you hadn’t noticed on the floor by his feet. It was cute; a little beige ceramic thing, with an owl painted on it.

“You see the patrol roster for tomorrow?” he spoke into the mug, swiftly changing the subject.

“I did,” you murmured. What you didn’t acknowledge, was that you’d also seen Peterson and Davis’ names on the list for the morning patrol. “Should be nice. We haven’t gone to the ski lodge in a while.”

A vivid memory of you two fucking up there raced through your mind, and a low heat simmered across your face as you remembered Jesse and Dina almost catching you once. Shaking the thought from your mind, you looked at him again to find him gripping the mug tightly, lips pursed in thought.

“We haven’t,” he agreed lowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “You haven’t been gettin’ called outside the gates much at all these days.”

This is it, you thought hungrily. This is the moment he tells you how he can’t wait to fuck you there tomorrow while you’re supposed to be patrolling. This is the moment he tells you he can’t even wait until tomorrow, and he drags you upstairs to his bed. Warmth flooded through your thighs, and you held your breath, staring at him.

But Joel didn’t say that. Instead, you watched dejectedly from the doorway as he rose slowly from the couch and tucked the tattered book underneath his arm. “Well,” he coughed, turning towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get some shut eye. It’ll be a warm day, and I’d better get some rest before we head out.”

You watched him move towards the stairs, heart beating painfully fast against your ribs.

“I’m actually not tired,” you blurted out. Joel paused. His left hand gripped the banister, and you could’ve sworn it might break in half based on the way his knuckles went white.

“Well, I am,” he said over his shoulder, before padding up towards his room , not even turning to give you a second look.

You tossed and turned for an hour, staring at the ceiling wide awake. The linen sheets stuck to your sweaty skin, making you feel claustrophobic enough to kick them to the end of the bed. You waited for him. Every creak and groan the old house made had your ears twitching, eyes glancing eagerly toward the door, expecting it to creak open and reveal him sneaking in through the darkness.

And when it became clear that he wasn’t coming, you pushed away the uncomfortable feeling it brought, and snaked a hand past the band of your underwear. Your fingers raked over the coarse hair there, teasing yourself for a moment, before you slid a finger through your damp folds. Collecting your slick, you dragged it up to coat your throbbing nerves and sighed in relief.

Your middle finger dragged quick circles over your clit, and all you could picture was Joel above you, fucking you while wearing those stupid fucking glasses. Cursing him in your mind, you pressed a finger past your entrance, and huffed in frustration at how it paled in comparison to the thickness of his digits. You imagined the way the glasses would fall to the tip of his nose, almost falling off his face while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. In an attempt to stifle the soft moans trying to escape your mouth, you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers moving quicker against yourself. And you came like that; hand down your underwear, rubbing yourself frantically, thinking about nothing but him.

It was hot, and the skin of your thighs chafed painfully as you and Joel ambled silently through the stables, getting your horses from their stalls to saddle up. He hadn’t said much to you all morning and you were trying not to read into it, but the fraught silence had you on edge.  

You winced upon spotting Davis and Peterson standing by the gate, chatting while they loaded their rifles. Lloyd caught your eye and smiled, offering a short nod in your direction. You returned the nod before looking back down and fiddling with Japan’s saddle, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“Gimme a sec,” he muttered. “Gotta go pick Jesse’s brain.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued tugging on the straps of the saddle, until your skin prickled, a presence looming over your shoulder.

“Should we see if we can swap partners?” that voice sounded, and you turned to see Lloyd smirking suggestively at you. “Send Davis and Miller out East together, and you and me could head to the ski lodge?”

Your palms dampened a little and your eyes darted around the stables. There was no denying that Lloyd Peterson was a handsome guy. He was young, somewhere in his early-twenties. He had bright green eyes that shone in contrast against the dark brown hue of his skin. Straight, bright white teeth almost blinded you whenever he smiled, and you’d have to be a robot not to be effected by it. Past his shoulder, you spotted Joel hovering at the mouth of the stables, gaze trained on the pair of you. Caught, he turned quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off toward Jesse.

You looked back to Lloyd and shook your head once. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Gonna stick with Miller today.”

Not giving him much chance to respond, you gripped Japan’s reigns and led her out of the building. Joel and Jesse were talking in hushed tones by the gate, and you walked in their direction, pausing a few metres away when you noticed how tense the conversation seemed to be. Jesse was frowning at the older man, shaking his head slowly.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice came again, and you turned with a sigh, raising a hand to block out the sun as you stared up at him. “Can we talk?”

“Talk,” you rushed out, glancing to the side just as Joel appeared beside you, holding out a rifle. You shouldered it quickly, noticing the way Lloyd seemed to balk at the older man’s presence. “Peterson,” you urged, eager to get it over with. “Get on with it.”

He spared another awkward glance at Joel before speaking in a lowered voice. “Did I do something wrong?” You cringed, knowing Joel could hear every word, and yet he didn’t move a muscle. It seemed he wasn’t going anywhere, eyes trained on the man, uninterested in offering the pair of you any privacy to finish your conversation. “I thought we had a good time, y’know? But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied plainly, even as the thought of him telling Davis about fucking you flashed through your mind. Joel was deadly quiet, eyes flicking between the pair of you like he was watching a game of tennis. You sighed deeply, wishing this wasn’t happening in front of him. In a moment of almost… shame, you realised that you didn’t want Joel to get the wrong idea. Didn’t want him to think that anything else had happened, or would ever happen, between you and Peterson.

“Then why won’t yo-“

“Why don’t you back off kid,” Joel interrupted suddenly, and your shoulders tensed, skin prickling at his harsh tone. “She’s not interested.”

Lloyd flinched at the words, and he looked to you, waiting for you to say something, to refute Joel’s claim. But you were distracted by the sudden warmth in your abdomen, and when you didn’t react quick enough he scoffed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking back where Davis was waiting with their horses. When you looked at Joel, he had a pleased smirk on his face, and you felt your stomach fall somewhat, guilt spreading through you at the way Lloyd rode out of the settlement without looking back.

The ride to the ski lodge was long. For the most part of the three hour trek, you rode alongside each other in silence, until finally you couldn’t help yourself, thoughts tumbling from your mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly.

Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t say a word.

“He was already embarrassed,” you added. His top lip curled up into a mean smirk.

“Peterson’s an ass. He should be embarrassed.”

A huff escaped your mouth and then he was turning, looking at you fully now with his eyebrows pinched together.

“What, your little boyfriend can’t handle some friendly teasin’?” he sneered, the change in mood so sudden you almost fell off your horse. And all the warmth you’d felt, every soft yearning part inside of you toward him, you pushed it to the side and focused on the confusion instead, allowing it to morph into pure anger. You were seeing red; furious with him for never being able to just see reason.

“Oh, fuck off Joel,” you scowled. “I’m not doing this with you today.” You kicked your heel against Japan’s hide and rode ahead, not listening for a reaction.

The higher the pair of you rode up the mountain, the hotter it got. By the time the horses were tied up by a trough of water and the pair of you were walking into the lodge, sweat was rolling down your skin in rivulets. A headache brewed in your temples, and frustration weighed heavily on your chest as Joel huffed and puffed around the room. Even being able to hear his breathing across the room while he scrawled in the logbook was enough to set your skin on edge. Eager to get some space from the tense atmosphere, you gruffly told him that you were taking first patrol, before shouldering your rifle and stalking back outside into the heat.

“You idiot,” you scowled to yourself, storming through the trees. Shame burned in your chest like a wildfire as you thought back to the night before. Touching yourself in his house, making yourself come thinking about him, wondering if he’d fuck you at the ski lodge. God, you felt like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

Your feet planted in the dirt, the word ringing in your head like an alarm. Eyes wide, you gazed into the trees.

“Nope,” you mumbled, starting to walk again slowly. “No, no, no.”

“Y’know they say talkin’ to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Fuck.

“What are you doing?” you turned quickly, staring him down from through the thick trees. “I told you I’d take first patrol.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Saw you storm off too,” Joel rolled his eyes, propping his hands against his hips. “What’s your problem?”

“Jesus,” you grinned sarcastically. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, stepping forward. The tan skin of his neck glistened in the sunlight, and you hated yourself for wanting to know how it tasted. Thankfully, hatred and anger were easier emotions to tap into than whatever the fuck you had been feeling about him for the past few weeks.  

“It means,” you ground out. “That you’re a nasty old bastard.” His face darkened, lips twisted into an angry snarl, but you continued. “Peterson’s not my fucking boyfriend, so you can give it a rest okay? I had it handled.”

“Sure,” he laughed bitterly. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, havin’ him hit on you right in front of me. You get off on the attention, from him and from me. I bet you loved havin’ me step in, tell him to fuck off.”

Your face was on fire as you glared at him, acutely aware of how the tension had spiked between the pair of you. Entire body tensed, you squared your shoulders and stared him down. “Are you fucking serious, Joel?” you asked lowly, eyebrows raising.

“Deadly,” he grit his teeth. “Don’t forget that I know you, baby, better than anyone.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” you spat desperately, turning around and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

“Oh yeah,” he called, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you making your stomach drop. “Walk away, sunshine. Let’s just not talk about it, right? I know that’s your favourite thing to do. Walk away, and act like nothing happened.”

“Oh my god!” you shouted. “Grow up, you fucking assho-“ But as you spoke, your foot landed awkwardly on a patch of moss. You heard a low popping sound before you shrieked as your legs flew out from underneath you. You hit the ground awkwardly, ass slamming into the ground, and dirt sprayed into the air around you.

“Shit,” you hissed, moving to get up but cringing as a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The flesh around your shin was already swelling, and you cursed audibly, reaching down to rest your hand against it only to wince at the dull pain spreading through your entire foot.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him say, and then his warm hands were on your shoulders, and he was crouching beside you. Breathing heavily, you stared as your ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Joel said, gripping your elbow to lift you up.

“Get off,” you snapped, shoving him back. He stumbled a little and then stood, glaring down at you. “I can do it myself.”

“Clearly you fuckin’ can’t.”

Eager to prove a point, you dug your fingers into the dirt and pushed yourself up, and then began limping back towards the ski lodge.

You moved slowly with Joel trailing just a few steps behind, close enough that you could hear his breathing, and the way he muttered inaudibly whenever you stumbled. When you almost tripped trying to step over a tree branch, he snapped, appearing at your side in an instant and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Joel,” you warned lowly, but he interrupted.

“Would you stop bein’ such a brat,” he snarled. “You might’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, just let me help you god damnit.”

You grumbled under your breath but didn’t fight him again, silently grateful to lean on him and get some weight off the injury. His chest rose and fell quickly as he led you back to the lodge, and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered. “Probably just a sprain.”

“Good,” he grunted, helping you up the steps and into the building. “Idiot.”

“Jeez, thanks, Joel,” you said bitterly. “You’re a real pal.”

His hand gripped your waist tighter, before lowering you onto the couch. “Any time, bud.”

Joel stormed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of water, tossing it at you before slamming down onto the sofa beside you. “Jesse and Dina will be here in a few hours, just keep it elevated until then.”

“You got it doc,” you rolled your eyes, eagerly gulping down the water even though it had gotten uncomfortably warm in his pack.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, your ankle throbbing where it rested atop the coffee table.  

“I don’t fuckin’ get you,” Joel finally breathed, and you looked to him with a raised eyebrow and a snarky comment on your lips, only to find him with his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“You heard me,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ get you. You go two weeks avoidin’ me, I hardly see you, then you’re knocking on my door, askin’ to stay? And then today you’re cursin’ my goddamn name. Throw me a fuckin’ bone, darlin’, cause I got no idea where I stand with you.”

Your lips parted, all the breath in your lungs rushing out of you in one fell swoop. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown settled across his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t look angry, you realised. He looked confused; he looked hurt. Your stomach rolled.

“I could say the same,” you started pathetically, and then his eyes flashed open and he was staring back at you with those dark brown eyes that fucking killed you.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said blankly, eyes darting around your face.

Your lips felt numb as you slowly asked, “What?”

“You left,” he said quietly. “You fuckin’ left me, and I just don’t know if I can keep pretendin’ anymore. Pretend that this doesn’t… mean anything to me. Pretend that I’m fine with… this. Don’t know if I can keep doing it if you’re just gonna leave. My heart can’t take it.”

It felt like time stood still for a moment. Outside one of the open windows, you could hear the trees rustling in the hot summer wind. Your ankle ached. Joel kept staring at you.

“You know that’s the best I’ve slept in years?” he asked softly, licking his lips. “Slept so fuckin’ sound with you next to me. No nightmares – hell, I didn’t even dream. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I almost wished it had never happened. So that I wouldn’t have to know how good it felt to have you, wouldn’t have to try and sleep without you every night after, knowing exactly what I was missing.”

“Joel,” you tried again but he shook his head, raising a hand in the air to stop you.

“Just let me,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. “Let me say this. Just once, and then I’ll let it be, okay? I won’t bring it up again, and we can go back to the way things were befo-“

“Stop,” you croaked out, tears swimming in your eyes. “Shut up for a second. I,” you paused, eyes darting over his face, searching for understanding. “I didn’t want to leave, okay? But I’m scared Joel. Jesus, I’m so scared of this.”

“Scared?”

“Of this feeling that won’t go away. Of wanting to stay. I’ve been trying to push it down, to ignore it, and it doesn’t fucking work, no matter what I do. I’m so scared that I’ve fucked up our friendship, that I’m going to lose yo-“

“Never,” he shook his head firmly, hand reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you’re not losin’ me, okay? That's never gonna happen.”

“But Joel,” you sighed shakily. “If we push things further, there’s no going back. Don’t you understand?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he admitted quietly. “I think it’s been too late for me for a while now.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, and when you spoke again you could hear the fear in your voice. “I don’t know if I can be what you want.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly and sighed, squeezing your thigh again.

“It’s you,” he said. “That’s what I want. You don’t have to do anythin’, don’t have to change or be anythin’ else. I just want you.” His eyes shone in earnest, and you couldn’t help but surge forward, planting your lips against his. He returned the kiss with fervour, parting your lips with his tongue and gripping the sides of your face in a searing grip.

He tasted like salt and mint and your head was swimming, consumed by him. Your fingertips were numb as they raced over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere all at once. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until his hands joined yours, carefully undoing them all until you could pry it off him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you allowed your eyes to rake over his exposed chest, taking in the sight of his tanned, hairy chest, littered with scars and freckles and you felt the urge to kiss every single one of them. So you did. You pushed him back into the couch and straddled him, ignoring the way your ankle cried out at the movement, and attached your lips to his collarbone, licking and sucking your way across his torso. Showing reverence to every imperfection on his skin. Your tongue swiped past one of his nipples and he jolted beneath you, hands dragging under the fabric of your shirt to rest on your back. You could feel him growing hard beneath you and you smiled against his skin before rolling your hips down against his. He was murmuring your name in between sighs, scratching at your skin, revelling in the kisses you sponged across his chest.

Your eyes trailed upwards to meet his. “Want your cock in my mouth,” you whispered, and his face crumpled in on itself, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hands tightly before pushing you off him. He stood up and in one quick movement he knocked the coffee table over, before he was undoing his belt and stripping his pants off. He helped you off the couch slowly, before lowering you down onto the carpet, crouching down to rest beside you. His large hands roamed across your chest, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward to expose your breasts, your aching nipples peaked and begging to be touched.

“Fuck,” he repeated, harsher this time, leaning over you to plant his mouth on your chest. His teeth scraped across your sensitive skin and you whined, gripping the nape of his neck as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Joel,” you mewled, tugging his face back up to yours for a brief kiss. “I mean it,” you breathed into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth so bad. M’gonna make you feel so good, I swear.” Within a second, he flipped the two of you over so his back was against the ground and you were straddling his hips. You grinned triumphantly, shifting your hips back as you kissed down his chest, moving your body down until you were straddling his shins, and pulling his briefs down with you.

His cock rested proudly against his stomach, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. The head was a deep shade of red, small beads of precum weeping out of his tip as he stared at you, patiently waiting for you to make a move. You didn’t waste a second before leaning down and gliding your tongue softly over the tip, swiping up his salt and humming at the taste. A sharp inhale whistled past his teeth, and you watched his eyes clamp shut at the sensation, hand forming a fist at his side. Gently, you took his hand and raised it to your head, encouraging him to touch you. He obliged, fisting your hair in his hand, grip tightening as you parted your lips around him and let him sink into your warm mouth. A long, drawn-out moan left his mouth and your cunt pulsed in response, the warmth between your thighs suddenly impossible to ignore.

“S-so good for me,” he groaned, pulling your hair tighter. “Love your mouth, I love it. That’s it, baby, open up a little more for me, show me how much you can take.”

The sharp sting on your scalp made you moan around him, and he cursed, undoubtedly feeling the vibration. The weight of him against your tongue was intoxicating, and you bobbed your head up and down slowly, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth easily, slick with your spit. You’d missed the taste of him, missed the sensation of him filling you up to the point where it was hard to breathe, and yet you still wanted more. You pressed forward, eager to feel him fill you up, but when his cock brushed the back of your throat he was gripping your hair and pulling you off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and you looked up in confusion. His bottom lip was bitten raw, and his eyes were a darker brown than normal as he gazed at you. When you didn’t move, he was pulling you up and turning your body so your back was to him, and only then did you realise what he meant. He pulled your shorts down your legs, dragging your underwear with them, and then he carefully tugged one of your knees up and over his shoulder, so you were straddling his chest. Slowly, you shuffled back on your knees until your wet heat was hovering over his face, and you leaned down to let your chest rest against his.

“Baby,” Joel sighed. “So fuckin’ perfect. Such a pretty pussy. Can never get enough of you.”

You clenched around nothing, and heard him groan, signalling that he’d seen it. Without warning, his tongue dipped between your folds and you gasped, pushing your hips back to give him a better angle, before taking him back into your mouth. And it was nothing like it had been two nights before. He wasn’t gentle, or slow, or relaxed. No, Joel was relentless.

His tongue moved rhythmically against you, and you tried desperately to focus, harsh breaths leaving your nose as you moved your mouth lazily along his length. You pulled back and lathed your tongue around the head of him, tasting the salt that dripped out of him. He grunted into you and you smiled, stroking him slowly as you sucked the tip, grinding your tongue into the sensitive skin just underneath his head. Joel’s hips bucked up off the ground, and your hand left his length, gripping his waist firmly to hold him down while you took him into your mouth again. You pushed yourself as far as you could, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he brushed the back of your throat. His beard scratched against your inner thighs deliciously, and you decided you loved it a little longer. And then suddenly, his tongue moved away from your clit and he was licking broad strokes along the entirety of your core, and then over your entrance, and then… his tongue flicked all the way back and into new territory.

You flinched forward, his cock surging deeper into your throat and you gagged around him as you explored the new feeling. You moaned, eyes screwing shut at the foreign sensation, and you felt your legs begin to shake against his sides. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you down harder against his face, ruthlessly dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to your hole, until you were tearing your mouth away him and sitting up, grinding yourself down desperately against his face. Arching your back, you writhed on top of him, crying out hoarsely. Every strong flick of his tongue felt like an electric shock jolting through your body, and he continued until you were panting and twitching on top of him, and then you let go. The orgasm tore through you, a shout falling from your lips as you rode his face, gripping his thighs for leverage as your entire body shuddered with the intensity. He didn’t let up; licking and sucking and kissing, his moans vibrating through your core until you were whimpering and dragging yourself off him, clit aching from the pressure.

You were still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Joel pressed your back down onto the carpet, nudged your knees apart so he could fit between them, and pushed himself inside you. A sweet, low burn blazed in your abdomen with every inch he gave to you. The wet sound of you sucking him in might have embarrassed you, but the look of awe on his face as he stared down at where you were connected just made you feel powerful.

His thrusts were strong, the sweaty skin of your thighs smacking against each other noisily filling the air, mixing with your breathless moans of his name.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he was saying, but you weren’t listening, eyes rolling back in your head as he played with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cried out at a particularly hard thrust, stomach tensing as the head of his cock grinded against your g-spot.

“There?” he panted, and you nodded frantically, mouth hanging open as he pressed against it over and over again, groaning at the way you tensed around him.

Urgent sounds left your lips as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, and you watched with wide eyes as his hand trailed down your chest to rest over your mound, his thumb slipping between your folds to press gently against your throbbing clit. Your back arched up from the ground and you choked out a moan as he rubbed you in slow circles, a stark contrast to the way he drilled into you with his cock.  

“Come,” Joel encouraged and you whimpered, eyes screwing shut as the overwhelming feeling soared through you. His free hand landed over your throat and your eyes flew open, looking up at him as he applied soft pressure to the sides of your neck. “C’mon baby, let me have it. I can feel you, you’re so fuckin’ close, give it to me, please, I want it.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you gasped against his hold, bucking up into him as he fucked you roughly. You twitched and writhed on the ground, his thumb never stopping its movements against your clit as you cried out his name.

And somewhere amidst it all, his movements slowed. His hands turned soft on your body, head dropping down to drag gentle wet kisses along the skin of your neck.  

“So good,” he praised lowly. “So beautiful.” Your heart soared in your chest, and you smiled drowsily, body tingling as he continued to give you gentle thrusts.  

“Kiss me,” you said shyly, and Joel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into his mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip as you draped your heavy arms around his neck, pinning his torso down against yours. “Fuck me like this,” you told him. “Want to feel you close to me.”

He nodded, starting up a slow rhythm, only ever pulling out halfway before pressing back into you. You were both slick with sweat, and you wiped his forehead gently before raking your fingers through his thick messy curls. His face was red from exertion, and you thumbed his cheekbones gently. A heavy sigh fell from your mouth. Still recovering from your previous orgasm, you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to build you up for another one.

“Give me one more,” he begged, sponging feather light kisses over your eyelids, your cheeks, down your neck. “Want to feel you come with me, baby, please. Just one more, I know you can.”

You gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, your tongues tangling together as he moved his hips slowly, cock dragging in and out of you at a devastating pace. Joel pulled back to watch you, eyes gazing down with adoration as he moved above you. That familiar liquid heat began to burn in your stomach, curling through every fibre of your being, and you could see in his face that he was close. And there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t place; simmering in his eyes, lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. His hips began to stutter against yours, a choked gasp of your name falling from his lips as he quickened his pace until you were coming together, holding each other tightly on the ground of the ski lodge. He moaned heavily against your mouth, and you throbbed around him as his spend coated your walls, warm and slick, squeezing out around his cock as he moved.

As a low, warm silence filled the room, you worked to control your breathing, body shaking against his as he pulled out of you. You whimpered at the empty feeling, missing the weight of him already. But he didn’t go far.

Joel laid down on the carpet beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. Your fingers trailed over the skin of his stomach, smiling at the goosebumps that developed in your wake. Mine.

His hand caught yours and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. You leaned forward to rest your face in the rook of his neck, and he sighed in contentment, trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Joel?” you murmured against his skin.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I called you a nasty old bastard.”

Joel laughed and tightened his grip around your back, tugging you closer to his chest. “I forgive you.”